A girl in gray sat on a park bench reading a book at the beginning of twilight. She was wearing a veil, but you could see she was beautiful. Nearby, a young man was watching her. He knew she had come here at the same hour for three days. The girl looked up and saw him. “You may sit down,” she said. “I would like the chance to talk with an ordinary man.” And then she sighed. “Could you tell me what the matter is?” the man asked. “Oh!” she said. “I am so tired of jewels, parties and expensive champagne. Everywhere I go, people recognize me. Artists want to paint my portrait. That’s why I wear this veil.” She turned to the man, “What do you do?” The man answered, “I work in that restaurant over there.” “Ah!” she said. “Well, it was nice to meet you, but I must be going. My chauffeur is waiting for me.” She pointed to a white car at the end of the street. The man waited for a minute, then followed her. She walked past the car, across the street, then into the restaurant. He saw a red-haired girl leave the cashier’s desk, and the girl in gray took her place. The man sighed. He crossed the street, and got into the white car and said two words, “Club, Henri.”