"May I tell the waiter to bring coffee upstairs?" he asked in a low tone.

"By all means," she said, "but you might order for three and leave word
for Mr. Ramsey to join us when he has finished his dinner." Her tone was
careless, and Bobby's heart turned to stone.

"Perhaps I had better tell him myself?" He tried to conceal his chagrin,
but his voice betrayed him.

Madame de Corantin turned to him gaily. "Oh, I expect he'll find his way
without that," she answered, "and I want to tell you something before he
comes."

"Come and sit here by me," she said, as they entered her apartment. "You
have been very discreet; I have noticed it from the beginning. Had it not
been for that I could not have allowed you to be with me so much.
Discretion is a great gift, Mr. Froelich."

"Oh, please don't call me 'Mr. Froelich'; couldn't you manage to say
'Bobby' at least once before Ramsey appears?"

Madame de Corantin broke into that catching laugh of hers. "Very well
then, 'Bobby,' my friend, I am going to trust to your discretion by
telling you my little story. I was once travelling on a ship going to
America--at that time I was very unhappy. I was quite alone. My husband
had recently died. I have been very lucky in my life--you are an
example."

"I?" exclaimed Bobby.