ial licence. He had a few pounds,
and a few things which he could sell would bring in a few more. Then,
with me for an incentive, he should get something to do that was worth
doing.

I said "Yes" to everything, and Jack darted away to converse with a nice
man he had met in the garage, who had a motor, and was going to Paris
almost immediately. If he had not gone yet, perhaps he would take us.

Luckily he had not gone, and he did take us. He took us to the Gare du
Nord, where we would just have time to eat something, and catch the boat
train for Calais. We should be in London in the morning, and Jack would
apply for a special licence as early as possible.

I stood guarding our humble heap of luggage, while Jack spent his
hard-earned sovereigns for our tickets, when suddenly I heard a voice
which sounded vaguely familiar. It was broken with distress and
excitement; still I felt sure I had heard it before, and turned quickly,
exclaiming "Miss Paget!"

There she was, with a dressing bag in one hand, and a broken dog-leash
in the other. Tears were running down her fat face (not so fat as it had
been) under spectacles, and her false front was put on anyhow.

"Oh, my dear girl!" she wailed, without showing the slightest sign of
astonishment at sight of me. "What a mercy you've turned up, but it's
just like you. Have you seen my Beau anywhere?"

"No," I said, rather stiffly, for I couldn't forgive her or her dog for
their treatment of my Jack.

"Oh, dear, what shall I do!" she exclaimed. "He hates railway stations.
You can't think the awful time we've had since you left me in the train
at Cannes. And now he's broken his leash, and run away, and I can't
speak any French, except to ask for hot water in Italian, and I don't
see how I'm going to find my darling again. They'll snatch him up, to
fling him into some terrible, murderous waggon, and take him to a lethal
home, or whatever they call it. For heaven's sake, go and ask everybody
where he is--and if you find him you can have anything on earth I've
got, especially my Italian castle which I can't sell. You can come to
England with me and Beau, when you've got him, and I'll make you happy
all the rest of your life. Oh, go--_do_ go. I'll look after your
luggage."

"It's half your own nephew's, Jack Dane's, luggage," said I, breathless
and pulsing. "I'm going to England with him, and _he's_ going to make me
happy all the rest of my life, for we mean to be married, in spit