The girl only smiled at him serenely, but she laid her hand for a moment quietly upon his. “These clothes are French, and I’m sure this floppy bow would make a Frenchman of me anyhow. “Don’t you care for Mr. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad. After five or six years it would not be difficult to hide in Italy or in France. You have watched all the uncouth creations of my brain come sprawling out upon the canvas, and besides, we have been companions. Really they are the most beautiful things in the world. “I think they do. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. You must have figured that out by now.
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