Sir John gave his order, deliberately stumbling now and then over a word, and anglicizing others. “Ferringhall, were you or were you not dining last night at a certain restaurant in the Boulevard des Italiennes with—la petite Pellissier?” Now indeed Sir John was moved. “I believe that you are right,” he said softly. The sense of publicity, of people coming and going about them, kept them both unemotional. All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual. His chest heaved violently, and big tears coursed rapidly down his cheeks. It troubled her conscience a little, but Melusine had learned well of Leonardo and she trusted his word Besides, no one could expect that a jeune demoiselle, in a foreign land, might carry out quite alone the difficult task with which she was faced. Paris is not the place for two young girls. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. “My God!” he said at last, with tremendous feeling, and then again, “My God!” Now that this thing was said her mind was clear and calm. “Call it warning, if you like.
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