"My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. Once they were below, McClintock turned upon the doctor. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. There you will be, in an inner temple. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. One glance through the window at that picturesque head had been sufficient. "No matter how much I tell of myself, I shall always keep something back. “It was inevitable,” he declared. ’ ‘But Marthe, this is idiot. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. ’ ‘Oh, peste,’ exclaimed Melusine crossly.
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