And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. Arrived in Paris she remembered that she had not the money for a fiacre. He followed. . ’ She shrugged fatalistically. ” “Perhaps,” he said, “you had better let me have your key, and I will go up and explore. ’ ‘How did you come by it? You didn’t steal it, did you?’ ‘Certainly I did not steal it,’ said Melusine indignantly. “You have not feeling enough. She opened the door with a neon colored key. ’ ‘What offer?’ she asked, suspicion rife in her voice.
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