"I dare say I shall be needing a secretary after Christmas, indeed, I'm
sure I shall," insisted the young man, more and more earnest in his
desire to do good. "I have dozens of letters to write every day, and all
sorts of odds and ends to keep straight. I could bring the things down
to your place and you could help me, if you would. But I'm afraid it
would be no end of bother to you."

"I should love it," said the girl, gently.

"Oh, it would be hard work. It would take a lot of your time, and be
worth a lot of money."

"Would it really? But you mustn't overpay me. I should be so angry if
you did that."

"There's no danger. I'm a good business man, I assure you. I should pay
a capable secretary like you--knowing several languages and all
that--say forty dollars a week. That's about two hundred francs."

"Wouldn't that be too much?"

"Hardly enough."

"You are so good--so good! But I knew you would be. I wonder if you
would think me a very bold girl if I told you something? It's this; I've
never forgotten you since those days in Paris. You were different,
somehow, from other men I had seen. I thought about you. I had a
presentiment that we should meet again. My mother dreamed of numbers to
play at roulette. I dreamed of--but oh, I am saying things I ought not
to say! Please don't blame me. When you've starved for two days, and not