could never do that!"

She stood for some seconds longer, staring at the sleeping man.
Resolution, bitter as grief, mounted in her like a tide. "No, it
shan't come to that with me!" she cried inwardly. "Lounging with my
mouth open for anyone to stare at! No!"

She turned, head up, body erect, face set strongly, and walked away.
Neither sheep-faced human grotesques in palatial offices nor all
Paris and its civilization should make her other than she wished to
be. She stepped out defiantly and stopped short.

The old purse was in her hand; through its flabby sides she could
feel with her fingers the single five-franc piece which it yet
contained. Somehow, that had to be disposed of or provided for; five
francs was a serious matter to Annette. She looked round; the man in
the seat was still sleeping.

Treading quietly, she went back to him, taking the coin from her
purse as she went. Upon his right side his coat pocket bulged open;
she could see that in it was a little wad of folded papers. "His
testimonials poor fellow!" she breathed. Carefully she leaned forward
and let the broad coin slip into the pocket among the papers. Then,
with an end of a smile twisted into the set of her lips, she turned
again and departed. Among the trees the lean youth in the black
cotton cap watched her go.

A day that culminates in sleep upon a bench in a public place is
commonly a day that has begun badly and maintained its character. In
this case it may be said to have begun soon after nine A.M. when a
young man in worn tweed clothes and carrying a handkerchief pressed
to his jaw, stepped out from a taxi and into that drug-store which is
nearest to the Gare de Lyon. The bald, bland chemist who presides
there has a regular practice in the treatment of razor-cuts acquired
through shaving in the train; he looked up serenely across his
glass-topped counter.

"Good morning, monsieur," he said. "A little cut yes?"

Young Raleigh gazed at him across the handkerchief.

"No! A thundering great gash," he answered with emphasis. "I want
something to patch it up with."

"Certainly certainly!" The bald apothecary had the airs of a family
physician; he smiled soothingly. "We shall find something. Let me now
see the cut!"

Raleigh protruded his face across the soaps and the bottles of
perfume, and the apothecary rose on tiptoe to scrutinize the wound.
The razor had got home on the edge of the jaw with a scraping cut
that bled handsomely.