he demanded, in French.

“Oh, howdy-do,” chirped Mrs. Hubbell. “Well, it’s Mr. Gor�! We missed you. I hope you haven’t been sick.”

“Where is your daughter?” demanded G�d�on Gor�, in French. “Where is Mary?”

Mrs. Hubbell caught the word Mary. “Oh, Mary. Why, she’s gone out for a walk with Mr. Mazzetti.”

“Good God!” said G�d�on Gor�, in perfectly plain English. And vanished.

Orson J. Hubbell sat a moment, thinking. Then, “Why, say, he talked English. That young French fella talked English.”

The young French fella, hatless, was skimming down the Promenade