clerks — these individuals were not preoccupied by thoughts of intimate inconveniences before midnight. As for me, I was quite alone with my thoughts. At least, I began by being alone.

As I was registering a particularly heavy and overfed portmanteau to Paris, a young woman put her head close to mine at the window of the baggage-office.

“Mr. Foster? I thought it was. My cab set down immediately after yours, and I have been trying to catch your eye on the platform. Of course it was no go!”

The speech was thrown at me in a light, airy tone from a tiny, pert mouth which glistened red behind a muslin veil.

“Miss Deschamps!” I exclaimed.

“Glad you remember my name. As handsome and supercilious as ever, I observe. I haven’t