Daisy rushed forward and knelt down by the duchess and seized one of her hands. ‘Thank you, oh, thank you,’ she babbled. ‘I thought them penguins would be the death of me.’

‘There, now,’ said the duchess, looking highly amused. ‘Don’t be too hard on the sisters. They really do good work. But of course, it must be quite frightful if one has not got a vocation. We shall take tea. Please rise, dear girl.’

When tea was served, Rose asked Harry if he had found out who had murdered Dolores Duval.

‘Every inquiry came to a dead end,’ said Harry. ‘I am going to Paris. There is only one other lead. A French lawyer volunteered the information to the police that Miss Duval had left everything to a Madame de Peurey.’

‘And who is Madame de Peurey?’

‘I can tell you that,’ said the duchess. ‘Famous grande coquette at one time. Men falling over her. Must be about sixty now.’

‘She must need the money badly,’ said Daisy. ‘I mean, we went once to a home for fallen women run by the convent. Those poor girls!’

‘It’s not the same for a grande coquette,’ said the duchess. ‘She was top of the tree in her profession. Before starting any liaison, her lawyers would meet with the prospective lover’s lawyers and a deal would be hammered out. It usually involved a house, servants, carriages and jewels. A clever woman could end up rich.’

‘At least they can’t have children to worry about like those poor fallen women,’ said Daisy, eyeing the cake stand and wondering if it would be considered greedy if she had yet another.

‘But they do. They form a sort of demi-monde dynasty and their children marry the wealthy children of other courtesans.’

‘I don’t know what she can tell us, but Miss Duval must have been fond of her and she may be able to tell us more about everyone Miss Duval knew,’ said Harry.

‘Do take us with you,’ said Rose. ‘I’ve never been to Paris.’

‘Out of the question. We are not even engaged any more. It would create a scandal.’

‘Not if I were to take them,’ said the duchess. ‘I haven’t been in Paris in years. It would amuse me. We shall all go.’ She rang the bell.

When the butler entered, the duchess said, ‘Kemp, take a telegram.’

The butler went to a writing desk and sat down, pulling a sheet of paper in front of him.

‘Let me see; where is Lady Polly?’

‘The Palace Hotel in Monte Carlo,’ said Rose.

‘Very good. The telegram is to go to the Countess of Hadshire. Begin. “Dear Polly, I am taking your daughter, Rose, on an extended vacation as the effects of the convent’s discipline have left her with nasty red hands and a spotty face and I do not think you would like to see her looks ruined or her spirits broken besides which she has been consorting with unsuitable company like Fallen Women but do not thank me as it is a pleasure, Yours ever, Effie.”’