” “Won’t you postpone the attempt, then?” he said gallantly, “until I have done something to deserve your gratitude? You will not forget—seven-thirty, Café Maston, Boulevard des Italiennes. I never let her read stories, or have pets, dolls. ‘She would not tell me. " Thames turned away at the question, which he felt might be construed into a reproach. He said nothing, even though it was not raining. “It’s—private. Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette.
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