herein we might meet at
times and criticize humanity to our hearts' content."

"I should feel unhappy if I did not pay," she insisted.

"Well, then, I shall charge you table d'hote prices. Will that content
you?"

So, when the attendant came to the other tables, Helen produced her
purse, and Bower solemnly accepted her few francs; but no bill was
presented to him.

"You see," he said, smiling at her through a glass of golden wine,
"you have missed a great opportunity. Not one woman in a million can
say that she has dined at the railway company's expense in France."

She was puzzled. His manner had become slightly more confidential
during the meal. It needed no feminine intuition to realize that he
admired her. Excitement, the sea air, the heated atmosphere, and
unceasing onrush of the train, had flushed her cheeks and lent a
deeper shade to her brown eyes. She knew that Bower's was not the
only glance that dwelt on her with a curious and somewhat unnerving
appraisement. Other men, and not a few women, stared at her. The
mirror in her dressing room had told her that she was looking her
best, and her heart fluttered a little at the thought that she had
succeeded, without effort, in winning the appreciation of a man highly
placed in the world of fashion and finance. The conceit induced an odd
feeling of embarrassment. To dispel it she took up his words in a vein
of playful sarcasm.

"If you assure me that for some unexplained reason the railway
authorities are giving us this excellent dinner for nothing, please
return my money," she said.

"The gifts of the gods, and eke of railway companies, must be taken
without question," he answered. "No, I shall keep your pieces of
silver. I mean to invest them. It will amuse me to learn how much I
can make on an initial capital of twelve francs, fifty centimes. Will
you allow that? I shall be scrupulously accurate, and submit an
audited account at Christmas. Even my worst enemies have never alleged
dishonesty against me. Is it a bargain?"

"Y-yes," she stammered confusedly, hardly knowing what he meant. He
was leaning over the small table and looking steadfastly at her. She
noticed that the wine and food had made his skin greasy. It suddenly
occurred to her that Mark Bower resembled certain exotic plants which
must be viewed from a distance if they would gratify the critical
senses. The gloss of a careful toilet was gone. He was altogether
cruder, coarser, more animal, sin