t, caused Anthony's
chilly blood to drop several more degrees.

"Don't ask me what it means, because I might tell you, and you wouldn't
be any happier for knowing _that_!" the girl said quietly.

"But the Frenchwoman?" Anthony essayed, lunging off in another
direction. "Who was she?"

"Well, she was my personal maid--at least it won't hurt you to know that
much," Mary dimpled. "I sent for her and asked her to bring my bag
and--there's the bag."

One pink foot indicated it, and for many seconds Anthony's dumfounded
eyes stared at the thing. There was an intricate monogram on one end,
which he could not decipher; otherwise, it impressed him. The bag was a
very, very expensive bit of luggage and his failing heart thumped a
trifle harder.

No stray young woman owns a bag like that and a French maid to carry it
around; no adventurous female waif of the type one might expect to find
wandering about in masculine raiment speaks in the unquestionably
cultivated tone that Mary was using now. And no clear-eyed,
clear-skinned young female friend of Mary's type ever belonged to the
demi-monde!

Mary was a person of parts and position. How she had appeared at the
fight, Anthony, if he had wonderful luck, might never learn; but the
fact remained that he had detained her against her will in his
apartment, and possibilities loomed so swiftly and numerous before his
mental vision that his throat tightened.

"You--you're a respectable young woman!" he said hoarsely.

"Thank you, unquestionably," Mary smiled dryly.

"And--er--as such, the thing to do is to get you out of here as quickly
and as inconspicuously as possible."

"I've been trying to get out inconspicuously myself," Mary suggested.

Anthony rose and his sickly smile appeared again.

"I can--can only apologize and assume all the blame," he said
unsteadily. "I will have Wilkins bring you your clothes, and as soon as
you are dressed we will----"

"You mean those men's clothes?" Mary asked sharply.

"Of course."

"And go out in them in _daylight_?"

"Certainly."

"I wouldn't do that for an even million dollars!" Mary informed him.

"But you'll have to do that!" said Anthony.

"But I will not have to do it, because I won't do it!" the girl said
flatly and with considerable warmth. "Why, every man, woman, and child
in the street would know, the very second they looked at me, and I--oh,
no! I won't do that!"

"There's nothing else to do!" Anthony cried desper