’ Fury rippled again. Did he track her? She was unaware if he did. She got up, put the neat cuffs she had made into her work-basket, and went to the bureau for the little cards in the morocco case. It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. You know as well as I do that it was accident. “Well, I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. ] CHAPTER XI The second call energized her into action. Paris looms behind—a tragedy of strange recollections—here she emerges Phœnix-like, subtly developed, a flawless woman, beautiful, self-reliant, witty, a woman with the strange gift of making all others beside her seem plain or vulgar.
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