"In this one instance. I shall withhold the address."
"Oh, it is easily to be seen that you do not trust me." I was utterly discouraged.
"I did not imply that," with the least bit of softening. "Certainly I would trust you. But ..."
"Well?"—as laughingly as I could.
"I must be the one to take out that letter,"—decidedly.
"I offer to bring you the hat untouched," I replied.
"I insist on going."
"Very well; we shall go together; under no other circumstances. This is a common courtesy that I would show to a perfect stranger."
I put on my hat, took up the Frenchman's card and tile, and bowed her gravely into the main hallway. We did not speak on the way down to the street. We entered the cab in silence, and went rumbling off southwest. When the monotony became positively unbearable I spoke.