save those which made him a slave to her beauty and her smiles.

"Percy!" she whispered to him to-night when freeing herself from his
embrace she looked up at him, and for this one heavenly second felt him
all her own. "Percy, you will do nothing rash, nothing foolhardy to-night.
That man had planned all that took place yesterday. He hates you, and
..."

In a moment his face and attitude had changed, the heavy lids drooped
over the eyes, the rigidity of the mouth relaxed, and that quaint, half-shy,
half-inane smile played around the firm lips.

"Of course he does, m'dear," he said in his usual affected, drawly tones,
"of course he does, but that is so demmed amusing. He does not really
know what or how much he knows, or what I know. ... In fact ... er ...
we none of us know anything ... just at present. ..."

He laughed lightly and carelessly, then deliberately readjusted the set of
his lace tie.

"Percy!" she said reproachfully.

"Yes, m'dear."

"Lately when you brought Deroulede and Juliette Marny to England ... I
endured agonies of anxiety ... and ..."

He sighed, a quick, short, wistful sigh, and said very gently:

"I know you did, m'dear, and that is where the trouble lies. I know that