He made it brief. At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade. My nerves were in rags. “I won’t go home,” she said; “I won’t!” and she evaded the clutch of the fatherly policeman and tried to thrust herself past him in the direction of that big portal. But threats and entreaties—even promises were ineffectual; and the unlucky captive, after exhausting his powers of persuasion, was compelled to give up the point. He noted an ebony cane laid close to hand, which suggested she was able to get about. Occasionally he relit his pipe. I had that coming. But think of the disillusionment! Except for our sex we have minds like men, desires like men. And he began also at times to wake at night and think about her. " "Pshaw!" cried Thames. She refused to eat. " "Don't worry about that.
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