shamed when he wakes up. He'll not like to find me sittin'
here."

It was broad daylight now. He was as sound asleep as a child. Since
she couldn't disturb him by rising she rose. Since she couldn't
disturb him even by kissing him she kissed him. But she wouldn't kiss
his lips, nor so much as his cheek or his brow. Very humbly she knelt
and kissed his feet, outlined beneath the afghan. Then she stole
away.

Chapter XV

The interlacing of destinies is such that you will not be surprised to
learn that the further careers of Letty Gravely, of Barbara Walbrook,
of Rashleigh Allerton now turned on Mademoiselle Odette Coucoul, whose
name not one of the three was ever destined to hear.

On his couch in the library Allerton slept till after nine, waking in
a confusion which did not preclude a sense of refreshment. At the same
minute Madame Simone was finishing her explanations to Mademoiselle
Coucoul as to what was to be done to the seal-brown costume, which
Steptoe had added to Letty's wardrobe, in order to conceal the fact
that it was a model of a season old, and not the new creation its
purchasers supposed. Taking in her instructions with Gallic precision
mademoiselle was already at work when Miss Tina Vanzetti paused at her
door. The door was that of a small French-paneled room, once the
boudoir of the owner of the Flemish chateau, but set apart now by
Madame Simone for jobs requiring deftness.

Miss Vanzetti, whose Neapolitan grandfather had begun his American
career as a boot-black in Brooklyn, was of the Americanized type of
her race. She could not, of course, eliminate her Latinity of eye and
tress nor her wild luxuriance of bust, but English was her
mother-tongue, and the chewing of gum her national pastime. She
chewed it now, slowly, thoughtfully, as she stood looking in on
Mademoiselle Odette, who was turning the skirt this way and that,
searching out the almost invisible traces of use which were to be
removed.

"So she's give you that to do, has she? Some stunt, I'll say. Gee,
she's got her gall with her, old Simone, puttin' that off on the
public as something new. If I had a dollar for every time Mamie Gunn
has walked in and out to show it to customers I'd buy a set of silver
fox."

Mademoiselle's smile was radiant, not because she had radiance to
shed, but because her lips and teeth framed themselves that way. She
too was of her race, alert, vivacious, and as neat as a trivet, as
became a former