They drove up into Paris in an open fiacre with a soft cool wind blowing in their faces, hand in hand beneath the rug. Manning, and glanced round hastily for further horticultural points of interest in secluded corners. Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. Give me your name, girl!’ ‘Again?’ Mademoiselle rolled her eyes. "Was that thunder?" he faltered, as a terrible clap was heard overhead. ” He shook his head, and his eyes and the mouth under the black mustache wrinkled with his smile. Now tell them why. ’ I wanted, as I have never wanted before, to take you up, to make you mine, to carry you off and set you apart from all the strain and turmoil of life.
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