I won't ask you where you have been, Anne Mie, but another time, remember, little one, that the streets of Paris are not safe, and that those who love you suffer deeply, when they know you to be in peril." "Those who love me!" murmured the girl under her breath.
"Could you not have asked me to come with you ?" "No; I wanted to be alone.

The streets were quite safe, and--I wanted to speak with Sir Percy Blakeney." "With Blakeney ?" he exclaimed in boundless astonishment.

"Why, what in the world did you want to say him ?" The girl, so unaccustomed to lying, had blurted out the truth, almost against her will.
"I thought he could help me, as I was much perturbed and restless." "You went to him sooner than to me ?" said Deroulede in a tone of gentle reproach, and still puzzled at this extraordinary action on the part of the girl, usually so shy and reserved.
"My anxiety was about you, and you would have mocked me for it." "Indeed, I should never mock you, Anne Mie.

But why should you be anxious about me ?" "Because I see you wandering blindly on the brink of a great danger, and because I see you confiding in those, whom you had best mistrust." He frowned a little, and bit his lip to check the rough word that was on the tip of his tongue.
"Is Sir Percy Blakeney one of those whom I had best mistrust ?" he said lightly.
"No," she answered curtly.
"Then, dear, there is no cause for unrest.

He is the only one of my friends whom you have not known intimately.