An hour later, in a pink and gold parlor of the Hotel de la Pax, he stood gazing into the china-blue eyes of Miss Gabrielle Rose. It goes without saying that Miss Rose was pretty; innocent she seemed, too, with a baby stare that said as plainly as words: "Please don't harm me, will you?" But—ah, well, Lord Harrowby was not the first to learn that a business woman may lurk back of a baby stare.
"You come from Lord Harrowby?" And the smile that had decorated ten million post-cards throughout the United Kingdom flashed on Mr. Minot. "Won't you sit down?"
"Thanks." Minot fidgeted. He had no idea what to say. Time—it was time he must fight for, as he was fighting with Trimmer. "Er—Miss Rose," he began, "when I started out on this errand I had misgivings. But now that I have seen you, they are gone. Everything will be all right, I know. I have come to ask that you show Lord Harrowby some leniency."
The china-blue eyes hardened.
"You have come on a hopeless errand, Mr—er—Minot. Why should I show Harrowby any
