CHAPTER XVI Ah cum began to worry. But it was hopelessly hard to put. How many nuns were there in England who might have occasion to spy on Lady Bicknacre’s ballroom? The presence of the French refugees took on greater significance. They drove up into Paris in an open fiacre with a soft cool wind blowing in their faces, hand in hand beneath the rug. "Don't mention it," returned Wood, in the conciliatory tone of one who admits he has been in the wrong; "your explanation is perfectly satisfactory. ‘Well, this maid,’ went on Kimble eagerly, ‘and me, we gets to talking, see, and that’s how I knew he were off to this party. I've a few necessary directions to leave with my people, to put 'em on their guard against the chance of a surprise. Husband of mine, I think we have rather overrated the emotional capacity of those—those dears. ‘You ought to be glad someone cares enough about your wretched little neck to try and save it.
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