Then with words of comfort and reassurance, he again pressed his lips to hers, and urged her to enjoy her happiness to its full extent, and to let the future take care of itself.
“Have no care to-day, darling,” he added. “It is your birthday, and I am with you.”
“Ah, yes, you are here—you, my own dear husband!”
And raising her lips, she smiled happily, and kissed him of her own accord.
CHAPTER XX.
CROOKED CONFIDENCES.
About noon on the same day which Jean and her husband spent so happily together by the Devon sea, two men of about thirty-five met in the cosy little American bar of a well-known London hotel.
Both were wealthy Americans, smartly dressed in summer tweeds, and wore soft felt hats of American shape.