He frowned again.

“I don’t quite follow you,” he said.

She looked at him with a queer smile.

“My being brought to Valeria to pose as his wife,” she explained.

“You don’t mean you came here from America expressly for that purpose?” he asked.

Her smile grew broader.

“Really, Duke, you are most delicious,” she said.  “Armand Dalberg told me, the other day, that I played my part beautifully—­he should see you.  You are a premier artiste.”

“Madame flatters me,” Lotzen answered with soft irony; then tried for her hand—­and failed.

“Well, you may take it so,” said she; “but, believe me, your cousin didn’t mean it so, to me.”

He moved over and sat on the edge of the table near her.

She leaned far back and put her hands behind her.

“Come, my dear, don’t be so mysterious,” he said.

“Let us be frank, as you suggest.  You say you are not Armand’s wife—­that, I am only too glad to believe; I am delighted.  You say I have always known it—­that, of course, is a mistake.  You say I am playing a part, now—­that, I don’t understand.”

“Premier artiste, surely,” she laughed.  Then, suddenly, grew sober.  “By all means, let us have a frank talk,” she said.  “It was for that I asked you here to-night—­But, first, light me a cigarette, and then go and sit down in that chair.”

“Buy me with a smile,” he said.

She bought him—­then he did her bidding.

“I was silly enough to hope it was only I that you wanted to see,” he said.

“My note gave no ground for such hopes, Your Highness,” she said.  “I told you exactly what I wanted—­to discuss a matter of immediate importance.”

“Oh, yes, I know—­but then I was still thinking of the Masque.”

She looked at him naively.  “Surely, Duke, you are old enough to know that, of all follies, a Masque is chiefest and dies with the break of day.”

He shrugged his shoulders.  “I am learning it, now, at any rate.”

“And, don’t forget, it was you who ended the pleasant promenade, to pick a quarrel with the—­Masque in Black.”

“But with full purpose to resume it in a moment.”

“After you had killed him?  Very likely!  Your sole thought would have been to get away.”

“And to take you with me,” he added.

She laughed.  “Nonsense, Duke; besides, I would not have gone.”

“And the promenade?” he asked.

“With the Black Masque dead the promenade would have been no longer necessary.”

“Oh,” said he:  “I’m beginning to understand.  You met me last night for a particular purpose; and that, being frustrated by the duel, is the reason for the appointment here this evening.”

She was leaning idly back, and the fan had resumed its languid motions.

“Your Highness has stated it with charming exactness,” she said.