In a reluctant manner he got to his feet.
Stooping over the bed, he gave a caressing pat to the tired, small face.
"Good night, Pansy, little flower," he said softly. "I'll go if you really want me to, but I'm not in the habit of going unless I want to."
"What an autocrat you sound! And please—don't forget my reputation. I can't afford to lose it so early in life."
There was anxiety in the girl's voice, for all her light tone.
"Your reputation will be quite safe with me," he said.
He stood for a moment watching her, an amused expression lurking in his dark, fiery eyes. Then he turned and, switching off the light, went noiselessly from the room.
It was not until he had gone that Pansy recollected that he had touched her twice and she had not minded or reproved him, and usually she very strongly resented being touched by men. And it was not until Le Breton reached his villa that he remembered the girl had not even troubled to ask his name. In fact, once the trick had been played, her only desire had been to get him out of the room.