ualities--incurious, tolerant, unprovincial--of a capital city. If we
encountered friends there, so much the better, in the end. The great
adventure, the solemn and perilous enterprise had begun. I sent Yvonne
for a holiday to her home in Laroche. Why? Ah, why? Perhaps for the
simple reason that I had not the full courage of my convictions. We
seldom have--_nous autres_. I felt that, if she had remained, Yvonne
would have been too near me in the enterprise. I could not at first have
been my natural self with her. I told the astonished and dissatisfied
Yvonne that I would write to her as soon as I wanted her. Yet in other
ways I had courage, and I found a delicious pleasure in my courage. When
I was finally leaving the hotel I had Frank by my side. I behaved to him
as to a husband. I publicly called him 'dear.' I asked his advice in
trifles. He paid my bill. He even provided the money necessary for
Yvonne. My joy in the possession of this male creature, whose part it now
was to do for me a thousand things that hitherto I had been forced to do
for myself, was almost naive. I could not hide it. I was at last a man's
woman. I had a protector. Yes; I must not shrink from the equivocal
significance of that word--I had a protector.

Frank was able to get three rooms at the Hotel de Paris at Monte Carlo. I
had only to approve them. We met in our sitting-room at half-past three,
ready to go out for a walk. It would be inexact to say that we were not
nervous. But we were happy. He had not abandoned his straw hat.

'Don't wear that any more,' I said to him, smiling.

'But why? It's quite new.'

'It doesn't suit you,' I said.

'Oh, that doesn't matter,' he laughed, and he put it on.

'But I don't like to see you in it,' I persisted.

'Well, you'll stand it this afternoon, my angel, and I'll get another
to-morrow.'

'Haven't you got another one here?' I asked, with discontent.

'No,' and he laughed again.

'But, dear--' I pouted.

He seemed suddenly to realize that as a fact I did not like the hat.

'Come here,' he said, charmingly grave; and he led me by the hand into
his bedroom, which was littered with clothes, small parcels, boots, and
brushes. One chair was overturned.

'Heavens!' I muttered, pretending to be shocked at the disorder.

He drew, me to a leather box of medium size.

'You can open it,' he said.

I opened it. The thing was rather a good contrivance, for a man. It
held a silk hat, an opera hat, a b