He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. ‘And what is it you’re to rescue her from, I should like to know. . “We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. Drummond, who had been about to speak, refrained. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies.
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