here, you pay me back for what I did then--as if it needed paying
back!--by making me pick up my money. That's quite a coincidence."

They had moved away from the tables now, and were walking very slowly
down the room. The young man smiled at the girl, as he crushed up the
notes and stuffed them into his pocket. He saw that she was much
prettier than he had thought her in Paris, if he had thought of her at
all; and her dress of pale pink cloth was charming with the rose hat.
Somehow, he was glad that she was not in white--with an ermine stole.

"So it is, quite a coincidence, and a pleasant one for me, since I meet
again one who was once so kind," she said. "Especially it is good to
meet a friend--if I may call you a friend?--when one is very sad."

"Of course you may call me a friend," said he, kindly. "I'm sorry to
hear you are sad."

"That is why I told you the other meeting seemed a long time ago,"
explained the girl. "I was happy then. Now, I am breaking my heart, and
I do not know what to do. Oh, I ought not to talk like this, for after
all, you are a stranger. But you are English, or you are American; and
men of those countries never misunderstand a woman, even if she is in
trouble. We can feel ourselves safe with them."

"I'm American," he answered, "and I'm glad you feel like that. I wish I
could help you in some way." He spoke kindly, but not with absolute
warmth of sincerity. The girl saw this, and knew that he did not believe
in her as she wished him to believe, as she intended to make him
believe.