CHAPTER FIVEHenriette Dupré picked up the emerald necklace and tried it against her white neck.
“How much?” she asked in a voice she reserved for shopkeepers and servants and which was very different from the soft dulcet tones she used when speaking to her admirers.
“Five thousand francs to my Lord,” the shopkeeper replied. “Seven hundred and fifty francs for you, mamselle.”
“C’est absurde.”
Henriette threw the necklace down on the dressing table and rose from the low stool, her filmy semi-transparent wrapper revealing the exquisite curves of her body.
“Fifteen hundred francs!” she offered.
“Mais non, mamselle,” the jeweller replied, spreading out his hands. “It would leave me without profit. Seven hundred and fifty francs is fair. You will recall that I accommodated you over a brace
