“Je le jure, madame,” said Jeanne.

And Peggy believed her.

“But I wrote to Monsieur McPhail, giving him my address in Paris.”

“He lost the letter before he saw Doggie again”—the name slipped out—“and forgot the address.”

“But how did you find me?”

“I had a lot of difficulty. The British Embassy—the Prefecture of Police——”

“Mon Dieu!” cried Jeanne again. “Did you do all that for me?”

“For my cousin.”

“You called him Doggie. That is how I know him and think of him.”

“All right,” smiled Peggy. “For Doggie then.”