She raised her veil and he looked at her closely. She was still as
beautiful as he had thought her last night, but her complexion was
pallid almost to fragility, and there were faint violet lines under
her eyes.

"You have not slept," he said. "It was the fear of last night."

"I slept badly," she admitted, "but that passes. This afternoon I
shall rest."

"I cannot help thinking," he went on, "about those men who watched
the house last night. They could have been after no good. I wish you
would let me go to the police-station. Or would you like me to come
and watch myself, to-night or to-morrow night, to see if they come
again?"

She shook her head firmly.

"No!" she decided. "It wouldn't do any good. Just now, at any rate,
it is Rosario they want."

Their conversation was interrupted for several moments while she
exchanged greetings with friends passing in and out of the
restaurant. Then she turned again to her companion.

"Tell me," she asked, a little abruptly, "why are you a clerk in the
city? You do not come of that order of people."

"Necessity," he assured her promptly. "I hadn't a sovereign in the