asure!

De Loubersac agreed.

The young couple crossed the Esplanade des Invalides, and by way of
the rue Saint-Dominique, the boulevard Saint-Germain, and rue
Buonaparte, reached the Luxembourg Gardens. Here they could talk at
ease.

A few casual remarks, and Henri de Loubersac came to his point.

"Dear Wilhelmine, there is a series of mysteries in your life which I
cannot help thinking about: mysteries which trouble me greatly!...
Forgive me for speaking to you so frankly!... You know how sincere my
feeling for you is!... My love for you is strong and deep.... My one
desire in life is to join my fate, my existence, to yours.... But
before that, there are some things we must speak of together, serious
things perhaps, about which we must have a clear understanding."

Wilhelmine had grown strangely pale. Despite the protestations of love
in which her future fiance had wrapped his questions, she was greatly
troubled. The painful moment she had waited for had come: she must
tell Henri de Loubersac the secret of her life: no very grave secret
if considered by itself; but the consequences of it, and the
innumerable deductions that could be drawn from it, might react
unfavourably on their relations to each other!

Wilhelmine must speak out.

They were just outside the church of Saint-Sulpice. Some large drops
of rain fell.

"Let us go into the church!" said Wilhelmine: "It will be quiet there.
If what I have to say to you is said in that holy place, you will
feel that I am speaking the truth. It is almost a confession." The
poor girl's voice trembled slightly as she uttered these decisive
words--words that frightened de Loubersac. What shocking revelations
did they foreshadow?

He acquiesced: the lovers entered the porch.

As he stepped aside to let Wilhelmine pass, he noticed a cab with
drawn blinds which had that minute drawn up not far from the space in
front of the church. He examined it anxiously.

"It seemed to me we were being followed--shadowed," replied de
Loubersac. "It is of little importance, however--we must expect that
in our service."

"Yes, you also have secrets," remarked Wilhelmine.

"They are only professional ones: there is nothing about my
personality to hide: my life is an open book for all the world to
read!"

De Loubersac's tone was hard.

It hurt Wilhelmine.

* * * * *

For some while they had been seated behind a pillar, in the shadow:
Wilhelmin