n's shoulders rose and fell resignedly.

"No man has an answer for that."

"I promise to tell you everything that happens; by telegraph."

"That's small comfort. Imagine receiving a telegram early in the
morning, when a man's brain is without invention or coherency of
thought! I would that you were back home with your father. I might
sleep o' nights, then."

"I have so little amusement!"

"You work three hours a day and earn more in a week than your father
and I do in a month. Yours is a very unhappy lot."

"I hate the smell of paints; I hate the studio."

"And I suppose you hate your fame?" acridly.

"Bah! that is my card to a living. The people I meet bore me."

"Not satisfied with common folks, eh? Must have kings and queens to
talk to?"

"I only want to live abroad, and you and father will not let
me,"--petulantly.

The music started up, and I heard no more. Occasionally the girl
glanced at me and smiled in a friendly fashion. She was evidently an
artist's model; and when they have hair and color like this girl's, the
pay is good. I found myself wondering why she was bored and why Carmen
had so suddenly lost its charms.

It was seven o'clock when I pushed aside my plate and paid my check. I
calculated that by hustling I could reach Blankshire either at ten or
ten-thirty. That would be early enough for my needs. And now to route
out a costumer. All I needed was a grey mask. I had in my apartments
a Capuchin's robe and cowl. I rose, lighting a cigarette.

The girl looked up from her coffee.

"Back to the dime-museum?"--banteringly.

"I have a few minutes to spare," said I.

"By the way, I forgot to ask you what card you drew."

"It was the ten of hearts."

"The ten of hearts?" Her amazement was not understandable.

"Yes, the ten of hearts; Cupid and all that."

She recovered her composure quickly.

"Then you will not blow up the post-office to-night?"

"No," I replied, "not to-night."

"You have really and truly aroused my curiosity. Tell me, what does
the ten of hearts mean to you?"

I gazed thoughtfully down at her. Had I truly mystified her? There
was some doubt in my mind.

"Frankly, I wish I might tell you. All I am at liberty to say is that
I am about to set forth upon a desperate adventure, and I shall be very
fortunate if I do not spend the night in the lock-up."

"You do not look desperate."

"Oh, I am not desperate; it is only the adventure that is despe