She smiled. Paris, 18. A little exclamation of surprise escaped Ennison. She became eager to explain herself, to show herself in the right light. Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. "You came hither under my protection, and you shall depart freely,—nay, more, you shall have an hour's grace. ’ ‘But what have I done?’ protested Gerald innocently. There was a strip of old rose brocade in the making that set an ache in the girl's heart for the want of it. “Let your friends act for you. You speak as one injured—as though I had been the one to take your name—as though you had been the one to make sacrifices.
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