Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. And by monsieur le baron, of a disposition entirely unforgiving, I do not desire to be recognised in the least. His own heart was too full of melancholy foreboding. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. On this second excursion, forewarned, she would use no light and keep as quiet as a mouse, she vowed, and thus refrain from attracting the attention of the militia at the gates. Fast. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. ” “But why?” “He’s married—and, I believe, living separated from his wife.
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