” He saw her into the train at Waterloo, and stood, a tall, grave figure, with hat upraised, as the carriage moved forward slowly and hid him. \" Michelle drifted into a reverie. Arrived in Paris she remembered that she had not the money for a fiacre. . On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. Manning, in an earnest voice, and waved his hand to the alley of mauve and purple. Any financial return was inconsiderable against the promise of this psychological treat. “Believe what, Michelle?” Lucy asked. “It spreads like wildfire. Gerald was conscious of that sliver of irritation again at mention of the name. Sir John waved her back. “I must go.
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