love-affairs to Nelson as to anyone else, now that the
Bockheimer prize was landed.

"Well--well--well--so I've caught you at it! Glad to see you,
Susy, my dear." She found her hand cordially clasped in
Vanderlyn's, and his round pink face bent on her with all its
old urbanity. Did nothing matter, then, in this world she was
fleeing from, did no one love or hate or remember?

"No idea you were in Paris--just got here myself," Vanderlyn
continued, visibly delighted at the meeting. "Look here, don't
suppose you're out of a job this evening by any chance, and
would come and cheer up a lone bachelor, eh? No? You are?
Well, that's luck for once! I say, where shall we go? One of
the places where they dance, I suppose? Yes, I twirl the light
fantastic once in a while myself. Got to keep up with the
times! Hold on, taxi! Here--I'll drive you home first, and
wait while you jump into your toggery. Lots of time." As he
steered her toward the carriage she noticed that he had a gouty
limp, and pulled himself in after her with difficulty.

"Mayn't I come as I am, Nelson, I don't feel like dancing.
Let's go and dine in one of those nice smoky little restaurants
by the Place de la Bourse."

He seemed surprised but relieved at the suggestion, and they
rolled off together. In a corner at Bauge's they found a quiet
table, screened from the other diners, and while Vanderlyn
adjusted his eyeglasses to study the carte Susy stole a long
look at him. He was dressed with even more than his usual