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How they had obtained reservations which coincided with ours was never satisfactorily explained, but that was because some clerk was holding his tongue. The flat, of course, was hired. No embassy had heard of Count Plaza, and Philadelphia knew no more of his wife. Whilst we were at the Opera, someone had telephoned to our hotel and, speaking with the night-porter, had charged him to see that our wine was not placed upon ice. The speaker had used Berry's name, and since the latter is notoriously particular about his liquor, the instructions had been accepted without a thought.

Indeed, as Berry observed, the 'treachers' had paved our way with bad intentions and we had fairly waltzed down it--into the muck.

"Well, we can't stay here," said Daphne. "For one thing I haven't the heart."

Twenty-four hours had gone by, and we were once more in the salon, more or less recovered, discussing our plight.

"I agree," said Adèle. "We came to play about Paris, and--and somebody's pinched our ball."

"You can buy a new one," said Berry. "All the stuff was insured, and the Quartier Vendôme is just the place to refit."