“I believe it is. During this dreadful pause the wretched man felt for his sword. He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. Through all he said ran one quality that pleased her—the quality of a man who feels that things can be done, that one need not wait for the world to push one before one moved. ‘It does not matter, Jacques. “That young man was giving a luncheon party to a dozen friends at the Café de Paris to-day. ‘Your master in?’ he demanded of the astonished footman, removing his cockaded hat and handing it over.
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