"There's no doubt whatever about it," Julien assured her. "The very first night I was in Paris he sent for me. Anne," he went on, turning once more towards her, "I haven't thanked you half enough. What a nerve you have! You were splendid!"
"Don't talk rubbish, Julien," she protested. "The stroke of luck was that I happened to be there. It must have been quite a surprise for him to see an apparently respectable young woman step out of your bedroom. I am inclined to fear, Julien, that I am compromised. Anyhow, mother would say so!"
"Between ourselves," Julien remarked, "I don't think that Falkenberg will mention the occurrence. Just wait while I put on another collar and we'll go to that music-hall."
She glanced at the clock.
"I think you shall take me home instead."
He looked at her quickly.
"This affair has upset you!"
"My dear Julien," she said dryly, "what an absurd idea! Of course I am quite used to these little affairs, to seeing you lie bound and gagged, and pointing a revolver at that unpleasant-looking Prince, with a horrible fear inside me all the time that if I did aim at anything I shouldn't hit it! Nevertheless, I think I'll go home, if you don't mind."
They descended the stairs and he called a little voiture.
"I suppose it would sound silly," he ventured, after a time, "if I said anything more about thanking you?"