Emilie seemed to slump suddenly in her chair. The regal bearing which had been the admiration of many women in Monte Carlo vanished and instead she looked an old and tired woman. But her eyes were dark with anger and hatred.

‘It is too much,’ she said. ‘It is impossible.’

Henry Dulton shrugged his shoulders.

Then I shall speak of what I know,’ he said. ‘There are several people already who have approached me with a view to finding out who you are and of course, what is of more moment, who is Mademoiselle Fântóme.’

‘You cannot tell them that,’ Emilie said. ‘You have no idea who she is.’

‘Does it matter?’ Henry Dulton asked. ‘Any pretty girl in the company of the notorious Madame Bleuet requires but one name. There were Lulu, Fifi, Ninon and Desirée. They had no other name! Did it matter? Who cared?’

Emilie jumped to her feet.

‘Do you dare to speak of my niece in the same breath as those low creatures?’

‘So she really is your niece,’ Henry Dulton said. ‘I am surprised. I had no idea you had one.’

‘Will you be quiet, you sewer rat, you parasite living on the fat of other people’s bodies?’

Emilie’s voice shook with emotion and her face was white with rage. But Henry Dulton only smiled his twisted smile and remarked,

‘Hard words make little impression on me, Madame. It is only money that counts, only money.’

‘Yes, my money, money I have worked for, money I have saved for, if it comes to that, and now you would take it from me, beggar me at the moment of my triumph.’

‘I have left you some,’ Henry Dulton replied softly.

‘That is kind of you,’ Emilie said sarcastically.

Then, even as she spoke, his eyelashes flickered and she knew as surely as if he had said it aloud that, even if she paid him this time, he would come for more and yet more. He would rob her of everything she possessed, break her in fact, and even then she could not be certain that he would keep his word and not reveal what he knew. He was utterly untrustworthy, as treacherous as a shifting sand, as dangerous as an adder.

She raised her hands for a moment to her temples, pressing hard in an effort to make her brain think clearly, to find a solution to this almost unsolvable problem.

Henry Dulton’s voice interrupted her.

‘I would not wish to hurry you, Madame, but I have an appointment at three-thirty. It does not concern you or your beautiful niece, but the gentleman who wishes to see me would undoubtedly be extremely interested in any information I might give him concerning the identity of the most talked-of women in Monte Carlo.’

‘I will give you the money,’ Emilie said hoarsely.

‘I thought you would,’ Henry Dulton smiled.

‘Wait here,’ Emilie said. ‘I have it locked away in my bedroom.’