" "May I trust you?" hesitated Thames. The lights of the Champs Elysées and the Place de la Concorde, suggestive, brilliant, seductive, shone like an army of fireflies against the deep cool background of the night. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. His tongue was hot. Far away there was the one woman for this boy of mine—some human being who would understand the dear fool better than all the rest of the world. She descended the stairs, and found herself at last in the street—alone. I do, however. Blank it was, except for a gate near the bridgehead. ‘I’ll get the key,’ said Roding, turning abruptly. ” She said. “Indeed!” Anna answered indifferently.
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