He let her go. Again the flame of anger swept through him. “Will you ever feel like it?”
“How can I tell—now?”
“You’ve never once kissed me. Any other girl——”
“I’m not any other girl.” And then, “We’re alone. I’ve got to be wise for both of us.”
She ran from him. In the doorway of the hotel she turned and kissed the tips of her fingers.
He seated himself at a table, watching for the light to spring up in her window. It was just possible that she might relent and come back, or that she might lean over the balcony and wave to him While he waited, the bearded Frenchman slipped out from the shadow. He approached and raised his hat formally.
“Monsieur, I understand that you are not stopping at this hotel.”
“No, but I have a friend——”
“Mademoiselle, who has just gone from you?’
“Yes.”