Jubilant to have overcome the fate which had tried to keep her hidden from him in Paris, he could hardly believe his eyes that she was before them again, and, as the motor rolled into the Avenue des Acacias, he asked her the question uppermost in his mind:
“Are you alone in Paris, Letty?”
“Don’t you count?”
“No—no—honestly, you know what I mean.”
“You haven’t any right to ask me that.”
“I have—I have. You gave me a right. You’re engaged to me, aren’t you? Gosh, you haven’t forgotten, have you?”
“Don’t make me conspicuous in the Bois, Dan,” she said; “I only let you come with me because you were so terribly desperate, so ridiculous.”
“Are you alone?” he persisted. “I have got to know.”
“Higgins is with me.”
“Oh, God,” he cried wildly, “how can you joke with me? Don’t you understand you’re breaking my heart?”