"Remember; we must keep the young fellow's thoughts away from himself. ” “Let us say that Café Maston, in the Boulevard des Italiennes, at half-past seven then,” he decided. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. He had often read about it, and once he had incorporated it in a story, that invisible force which sent men to prison and to the gallows, when a tongue controlled would have meant liberty indefinite. She treaded down the hall swiftly but stopped abruptly when she heard a voice in back of her. Love stories!… A sob rushed into her throat, and to smother it she buried her face in a pillow.
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