She obeyed, extending her arm. His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance. He pulled her from him to kiss her on the mouth and paused, looking into her face. “Go on!” “You know—in Paris they coupled my name with some one’s—an Englishman’s. ” “Against your will?” He asked. On the same peg and evidently belonging to it was a black velvet Zouave jacket. His manner, however, was as stern and haughty as ever, and his glances retained their accustomed fire. Then you have altered not only that, but your manner of dressing it. At the threshold of the study he bade her good-night; but he did not touch her forehead with his lips. “Now I should like to know,” she said, looking at him with a quiet smile, “what you are doing here? It is not a particularly inspiring neighbourhood for walking about by yourself. ’ ‘Why should you care?’ demanded Roding, exasperated.
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