not mean what you say."

"Even an Englishman," I answered, "can find words when he is
sufficiently moved."

I made a feint again to hold her hands, but she drew away.

"When are you going back to England?" she asked abruptly.

"To-morrow, I think," I answered, "if I am still free."

"Free!" she repeated scornfully. "If you are protected, who is there
who will dare to touch you? Monsieur Decresson has all the police
dancing to his bidding, and if that were not sufficient, Monsieur
Bartot could rescue you even from prison. No, you are safe enough,
monsieur, even if you remain here! It is Louis, eh, who is anxious for
you to return to England?"

"My time was nearly up anyhow," I told her. "It is not until this
moment that I have felt inclined to stay."

"Nevertheless," she murmured, "Monsieur goes to London to-morrow. Is
it permitted to ask--"

"Anything," I murmured.

"If monsieur goes alone?"

"I fear so," I answered, "unless mademoiselle--"