“I heard. I’m so sorry. And before he could finish your portrait too. May I come in?” I didn’t wait for an invitation but barged past her and she didn’t try to stop me. “Still, I am sure you will find plenty of work as a model,” I went on. “You are so beautiful.”

She smiled shyly. “Thank you.”

“I also saw a picture of you that Monsieur Noah painted. Are there any more for sale?”

“He does not like to paint me,” she said. “He does not like me to be a model either.”

Then of course I wondered why I had been so dense. This was surely Jojo, the mistress of whom he’d been so protective.

“I understand.” I nodded. “He does not like other men to see you. But he allowed Monsieur Bryce to paint you with no clothes on.”

She was looking away now, one hand playing with her hair like an embarrassed child. “He did not know,” she whispered. “The money was good. I thought there would be no harm.”

“But there was harm, wasn’t there?” I said sharply. She looked up with frightened eyes. “That’s why you were upset and ran away that morning.”

“Who are you?” she asked. “Why do you come here?”

“A friend,” I said. “A friend who knows about the history and nature of Reynold Bryce. I know that he liked young girls. And he couldn’t keep his hands off them.”

“There were others?” she asked.

I nodded. “I know of another girl, about your age. He forced her to do bad things.”

“He tried to force me,” she said. “He said nobody need know and he’d pay me even more. Such a thing had never happened to me. I was terrified. I fought him, madame. I grabbed my clothes and fled. I went down the back stairs, the way I always had to come and go. Then I dressed myself rapidly and ran home. I was afraid he would come after me, but thank God he did not.”

I could understand her indignation but her naïveté was rather surprising. She did, after all, live in sin with a painter. “Did you tell Maxim when you came home?” I asked.

She nodded. “He saw how upset I was. So I told him what Mr. Bryce had tried to do. He was furious. I’ve never seen him so angry. He stormed out and was gone for hours.”

“Where is he now?”

“He has gone, madame. Gone to England.”

“To England? But I saw him on Saturday evening, at a party.”