Cynthia went on folding things to put into her suitcase. In another minute she could close it, not to be opened again until she was in France. “I wonder,” she asked without turning, “if you would do me a great favor?”
“Why of course my dear, what is it?”
“Well, you see this reward business is rather a bother.” Cynthia didn’t say that Stasia had warned her it might be some weeks before the check got through. “I wonder if you would take some of my money now, as part of your share. If I have too much I’m liable to spend it on Paris hats and foolish things, you see. Perhaps a hundred now, and when the check comes I’ll send you the rest of your half.”
For a moment Cynthia was afraid Miss Mitchall would see through her plan and refuse, but the little governess smiled and nodded. Yes, she knew how tempting Paris was if you had money. Yes, she’d be glad to take some of it now.
Cynthia snapped off the light and hauled herself into the upper bunk. Paris tomorrow! But she wasn’t afraid of her luck any more. She’d proved it would stand by her.
CHAPTER 2
Paris
CORNED BEEF HASH
Steamship and steamer friends had been left behind. Paris was ahead, closer now with every minute, every hurrying second. The little French girl who had kept on her hat and gloves and had read, in silence, a paper covered copy of Anatole France all the way from Cherbourg, let down the window, leaned out to wave a beckoning hand, and shouted, “Porteur! Porteur!”