Escape was now impossible. He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. "Stay, dear Thames!—stay!" cried the little girl. He had not thought to find a lady so ready of humour and willing to give him a hearing. " "Ship her back to her father"—sagely. They were so good to me. ” “Who are you?” “I am a friend of Miss Pellissier’s,” Courtlaw answered. Abruptly the sterner look vanished and she twinkled. “Very likely,” he answered. But—it’s one of the things I’ve just been thinking over. He was a tall man and fair, with bluish eyes that were rather protuberant, and long white hands of which he made a display. Their small talk continued.
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