DAMIER, three days afterward, stood in his sitting-room
in a Paris hotel, looking with a certain astonishment at the small sheet
of notepaper he held, upon which was written in a firm, flowing hand--a
hand that seemed, though so gracefully, to contradict any impression of
a cry for help:
DEAR MR. DAMIER: I shall be very glad to see you to-morrow
afternoon at four. I well remember Mrs. Mostyn; to hear of her from
a friend of hers will be a double pleasure.
Yours sincerely,