"I don't see how—if you weren't there."
I began to stamp about the room. I had forgotten that the fact of her being a woman made a difference in all sorts of ways. The situation was more complicated than I had allowed for.
"Miss Moore, I'm an idiot."
"Yes?"
There was something in the way in which she laid emphasis on the note of interrogation which robbed the word of its sting.
"But I'm not, in some respects, such an idiot as you might suppose."
"Oh."
This was said with a twinkle of laughter.
"Can you trust me?"
"With my life; with what is dearer."
"Will you do as I tell you?"
"Implicitly."
"Go upstairs, put your hat and coat on, and some things in a bag."
"How many things? In what sized bag?"
"Enough to take you to Paris."
"To Paris? Am I going to Paris? Oh, but I'm wanted at the theatre; they're clamouring for me."
"Let them clamour. Will you be so kind as to do what I tell you? Excuse me, Miss Moore, one moment! Do you mind my bringing a man
