CHAPTER I

TWILIGHT IN THE PARK

"You may wait, Renaud."

The voice was firm, but the lady herself hesitated as she stepped from
the tonneau. There was no answer. Holding the flapping ends of her
veil away from her face, she turned and looked fairly at the driver of
the machine.

He seemed a businesslike, capable man, though certain minor details of
his chauffeur's rig were a bit unusual, and now that he had been
obliged, by some discomfort, to remove his goggles, his face appeared
pleasant and quite untanned. His passenger noted these things,
remarking: "Oh, it isn't Renaud!"

"No, Mademoiselle; Renaud hadn't showed up at the office when you
telephoned, so they put me on in his place."

"Ah, I see." Accent seemed to imply, however, that she was not quite
pleased. "The manager sent you. And your name is--?"

"My name--rather odd name--Hand."

The face half hidden behind the veil remained impassive. A moment's
hesitation, and then the lady turned away with a short, "You will wait?"

"As mademoiselle wishes. Or shall I perhaps follow slowly along the
drive?"