Say, that girl fooled me at first glance. It was an oldfashioned peasant blouse, white, square necked, and trimmed with lace. Drink this!” He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips. Now I am sorry to cross you in anything you have set your heart upon, but I regret to say—” “H’m,” he reflected, and crossed out the last four words. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. “That young man was giving a luncheon party to a dozen friends at the Café de Paris to-day. Stanley came home at a quarter to six—an earlier train by fifteen minutes than he affected—his sister met him in the hall with a hushed expression.
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