When the taxicab deposited us in front of the house, I glanced hastily up and down the road. There was another cab at the east end of the street, but I could not discern if it were approaching me or stationary. I opened the front door quickly and admitted my companion, then preceded her up the uncarpeted stairs to my little apartment on the top floor. I was the only tenant in the house, and therefore there would be no cause for embarrassment.
As I opened the door of my apartment the dog pushed past me. Again I had forgotten it; but it had not forgotten its mistress.
I looked inside my bare little rooms. It was hard to say good-by.
"Till to-morrow, mademoiselle," I said. "And won't you tell me your name?"
She drew off her glove and put one hand in mine.
"Jacqueline," she answered. "And yours?"
"Paul," I said.
"Au revoir, Monsieur Paul, then, and take my gratitude with you for your goodness."
I let her hand fall and hurried down the stairs, confused and choking, for there was a wedding-ring upon her finger.