"We are nearly there," he said reassuringly, "and you are as light as a
feather."

She lay back, perfectly content, her head pressed against his broad
shoulder, her dark eyes closed trustfully.

Adrien Leroy hurried on, for the wind cut with the force of a knife; but
his face was very thoughtful as he approached his chambers.

"What else can I do?" he asked himself. "She is such an innocent child.
Can I take her to my rooms without injury to her poor shred of
reputation? Yet no houses are open at this hour, and I cannot hand her
over to that drunken brute. There's no help for it!"

It evidently never occurred to him to turn back and deliver her into the
charge of Miss Lester. Indeed, he thought that would have been greater
cruelty than to have left her in the streets.

Having reached the block of buildings in which were his own rooms,
Adrien walked up the stairs and opened a door on the first floor. In the
hall a light was burning, held by a statuette of white marble; and
Leroy, after gently setting the girl down on her feet, led her into his
study.

The room in which she found herself was not lofty, but the ceiling was
exquisitely painted, while from the four corners hung electric lights
'neath delicate shades. The furniture was rich in colour, solid as
befitted a man's room, while on the walls were a few rare engravings. A
couple of gun-cases in one corner and a veritable stock of fishing