"Oh! Oh! Oh!" "Who--who are you ?" huskily demanded Mrs.De Peyster.
"Oh! Oh!" moaned the figure.

"Isn't it terrible! Isn't it terrible! But I didn't mean to do it--I didn't mean to do it, Caroline!" "It's not--not Olivetta ?" gasped Mrs.De Peyster.
"It was an accident!" the figure wailed on.

"I couldn't help myself.
And if you knew what I've gone through to get here, I know you'd forgive me." Mrs.De Peyster had lifted the veil up over the hat.
"Olivetta! Then--after all--you're not dead!" "No--if I only were!" sobbed Olivetta.
"Then who is that--that person who's coming here this morning ?" "I don't know!" Then Olivetta's quavering voice grew hard with indignation.

"It's somebody who's trying to get a good funeral under false pretenses!" "But the papers said the body had on my clothes." "Yes--I suppose it must have had." "But how--" Mrs.De Peyster recalled their precarious position.
"Matilda, lock the door.

But, Olivetta, how could it ever, ever have happened ?" "I followed your directions--and got to Paris all right--and everything was going splendid--and I was beginning to enjoy myself--when--when--Oh, Caroline, I--I--" "You what ?" demanded Mrs.De Peyster.
"I lost my purse!" sobbed Olivetta.
"Lost your purse ?" "I left it in a cab when I went to the Louvre.