"I must leave without saying good-bye, and I shall never see you again. My father has taken me back. I wrote to him and he came and found me. He has forgiven me everything, only I have had to promise never to speak to anyone I knew in Paris. It is all your doing, dear. God bless you. You have saved me. I shall pray for you every day as long as I live.
"Your poor
"Paula."
"Will that do?" she laughed as she held out the letter.
He read it. And he did not laugh.
"Yes—that'll do," he said. "I'll tell her you've gone to England, and I'll send the letter to London to be posted."
"Then that's all settled!"
"Can I do anything for you?" he asked.
"God Himself can't do anything for me," she said, biting the edge of her veil.
"Where are you going now?"