Subject at hand: "B, I went to the morgue today." Blair honestly, hilariously, assumes that she's talking about a sex club. I can't imagine a sex club called The Morgue in Paris; conversely, if you told me it was a flourishing Berlin franchise I would just ask how much stock Chuck Bass owns in it and when it's coming to the UES. "A place where they keep dead bodies," Serena explains, wanting to share her newfound knowledge. Digging out the buried lede and then explaining it backwards, she tells Blair that her ex-boyfriend and current love-of-all-time, Chuck Bass, was shot and murdered. But then he wasn't. But he's still missing, so he might be.
Blair breezily explains that Chuck is not dead, and in fact is not missing, and as usual Serena and her stupid mom are streets behind. "He was on the Rue de Charenton an hour ago. Gossip Girl said I was in Paris. Where else would he be?" It is my own hope one day to have such solipsistic sense of self, that such huge coincidences would fall before my shrug, murders erasing themselves in time and space, just because of how self-obsessed I am. Serena worries because this still means that Chuck is on some kind of Lost Weekend, but again B bests her. "I could care less about his Bassets. And besides, he's probably filtering his finances through some foreign government so that I won't know he's stalking me."
When she saw him, when they spoke, what happened? Serena is on the case and you never know what might be important. A detective is only as good as her instincts, and Serena's are telling her that this conversation between Blair and the deceased might just wrap this case up sooner than expected. Chuck's murder must be avenged, and it's possible only Chuck himself can provide the clues to see it through.
"Nothing. He limped away, and I kept driving. It's probably part of some elaborate scheme."
But the limp! The blood Serena tasted on his snakeskin wallet, tongue flicking out just as Chevalier was turning away. "I'm sorry he pissed off the wrong pickpocket, but I've been waiting for this date all summer... I can't talk to him, S. You don't know what it was like seeing him, even through the car window. Trust me, the only thing wrong with Chuck is that I'm gonna be happy without him." And the limp. And the blood. And his murder, Serena thinks.
Henry Prince isn't surprised at all the tips he's getting, from the men with their fat necks and tiny little berets. You wear pants like that because you want to get noticed, and you never know when you'll need emergency surgery from an untrained Parisian. He is surprised, however, to see Eva there at the bar, seeing what he does to earn those francs. Also by the fact that judging by the shopping bags Blair was rocking in the last scene, he's only been at work for two stores' worth of shopping. Because he is French, Oncle Alphonse says that an hour is more than enough time for your first day, and Henri is free to be free for the day. Fucking Europe. Have some free medical care while you're at it. Oh wait, your waifish girlfriend took care of that already.