Satisfied, however, that she did not notice him, Jonathan glided away as noiselessly as he came, and ascended another short flight of stairs leading to the garret. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. “Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. ” “Let us say that Café Maston, in the Boulevard des Italiennes, at half-past seven then,” he decided. Smith obeyed. With a well-simulated unconcern and a heightened color she finished her breakfast.
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