“Horrid!  Unlikely!  Impossible....  What do you mean us to understand about it, Colonel?  Could she have....?”

Then the Colonel went on to demonstrate, with many coarse insinuations, that that good Georgine, as he familiarly called her, had done many more things than people gave her credit for.  And he went on to add:  “Surely, you must have heard of the row about her between Givrac and the Homme-Volant at the Cirque?”

“What, the man that wears stockinet all covered with gold scales?  Do tell us, Colonel!”

But here Madame de Nailles gave a dry little cough which was meant to impose silence on the subject.  She was not a prude, but she disapproved of anything that was bad form at her receptions.  The Colonel’s revelations had to be made in a lower tone, while his hostess endeavored to bring back the conversation to the charming reply made by M. Renan to the somewhat insipid address of a member of the Academie.

“We sha’n’t hear anything more now,” said Colette, with a sigh.  “Did you understand it, Jacqueline?”

“Understand—­what?”

“Why, that story about the bracelet?”

“No—­not all.  The Colonel seemed to imply that she had not picked it up, and indeed I don’t see how any one could have dropped in the street, in broad daylight, a bracelet meant only to be worn at night—­a bracelet worn near the shoulder.”

“But if she did not pick it up—­she must have stolen it.”

“Stolen it?” cried Belle.  “Stolen it!  What!  The Marquise de Versannes?  Why, she inherited the finest diamonds in Paris!”

“How do you know?”

“Because mamma sometimes takes me to the Opera, and her subscription day is the same as that of the Marquise.  People say a good deal of harm of her—­in whispers.  They say she is barely received now in society, that people turn their backs on her, and so forth, and so on.  However, that did not hinder her from being superb the other evening at ’Polyeucte’.”

“So you only go to see ’Polyeucte’?” said Jacqueline, making a little face as if she despised that opera.

“Yes, I have seen it twice.  Mamma lets me go to ‘Polyeucte’ and ‘Guillaume Tell’, and to the ‘Prophete’, but she won’t take me to see ’Faust’—­and it is just ‘Faust’ that I want to see.  Isn’t it provoking that one can’t see everything, hear everything, understand everything?  You see, we could not half understand that story which seemed to amuse the people so much in the other room.  Why did they send back the bracelet from the Prefecture to Madame de Versannes if it was not hers?”

“Yes—­why?” said all the little girls, much puzzled.

Meantime, as the hour for closing the exhibition at the neighboring hippodrome had arrived, visitors came pouring into Madame de Nailles’s reception—­tall, graceful women, dressed with taste and elegance, as befitted ladies who were interested in horsemanship.  The tone of the conversation changed.  Nothing was talked about but superb horses, leaps over ribbons and other obstacles.  The young girls interested themselves in the spring toilettes, which they either praised or criticised as they passed before their eyes.