“I have now to go off to see a friend on business at the Hôtel de Paris, so Captain Stuart will escort you home, Mademoiselle.”
M. Popeau spoke with a touch of rather unusual formality, and Lily looked round at him surprised. “I am entrusting you to the care of a good and faithful friend,” he went on in French. “Be kind to him to-night.”
Stuart was now slowly walking towards them, and his face, which had been set in grim lines, softened as his eyes rested on Lily.
The two walked out of the club in silence. She looked distractingly pretty, but also what Stuart had never seen her look before, that is, ashamed—ashamed as a child looks who knows she has done wrong, and yet, while longing for forgiveness, does not want to ask for it.
CHAPTER XXII
When they were in the open air they both stopped, and Lily said, almost in a whisper: “How beautiful Monte Carlo is at night!”
The now waning moon silvered the great white buildings and shed shafts of delicate, quivering light across the dark sea to their right.
“I wonder if you’d mind our walking up to La Solitude?” said Lily’s companion suddenly. “Were they expecting you back early?”
“No; they didn’t think I could be home before eleven.”
They made their way across the great open space in front of the Casino, and started walking along one of the deserted paths which led through the gardens. It was indeed a very fairyland of mysterious beauty. Through the high feathery trees could be seen the vast star-powdered sky.