“That young man was giving a luncheon party to a dozen friends at the Café de Paris to-day. Lucy found that her former anonymity as well as her popularity in the school was completely reversed. ” She lifted her eyebrows. ‘Jacques, where are you hurt?’ But as she asked the question, she saw the wound. The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it. It was a betrayal of God and her former family, but all in all was much easier. Others pulled hats over their noses, cowered in their seats, and feigned that all was right with the world. They drove rapidly through the emptying streets. He waved a cordial goodbye. "I don't know his name. Annabel watched her with wide-open, terrified eyes. You can pay me when we return. Lucy looked at her with a small measure of pity.
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