And, with the glitter still lurking in her dark-grey eyes, she believed him. He drew her cloak round her, and gently brought her hood over her hair.
“I must take you home,” he said tenderly, “without delay. And as we go through the streets you must tell me how it happened, and how you were able to come to me.”
“Desiree was not asleep,” she answered; “she was waiting for me to return, and told me at once. Then she went to bed, and I waited until she was asleep. It was she who managed the escape.”
De Casimir, who was locking the drawers of his writing-table, glanced up sharply.
“Ah! but not alone?”
“No—not alone. I will tell you as we go through the streets.”
CHAPTER XI. THE WAVE MOVES ON.
La meme fermete qui sert a resister a l'amour sert aussi a le
rendre violent et durable.
It is only in war that the unexpected admittedly happens. In love and other domestic calamities there is always a relative who knew it all the time.