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.
Limping away, Henry begs Eva to apparate away with him to another country altogether, because he has had it with Paris. They run you over and track you down and pinch your tiny ass. Eva nods sadly -- it is Oncle Alphonse's way, but he means well -- and then mumbles some indecipherable garbage of some sort. Henry says that not only will India serve his rapist's nightmares every bit as well as Paris, but that he has been keeping a financial secret of some kind. "Then why are we living in a shanty where the bathroom is the kitchen," I presume Eva asks, but there's no real way to know.
Lenox Hill calls Lily to get her to explain to Rufus, who is a dolt -- although props for actually pretending to be interested in whether or not your wife's stepson is dead this time -- that you can't be calling random people asking for other random people's medical information. "I was just hoping to get some more information, make sure this guy's even a real doctor, not some sex phone operator that crazy girl paid off to lie to us." If you were wondering, that's probably the best part of the entire episode: "Sex phone operator," Rufus says. Sex. Phone. Operator. The mind fucking boggles.