I am here to-night because I have run away from my father, and I have used every lawful means to get married--under conditions framed by myself, of course--in order to escape from a hateful marriage which he has planned." She hesitated, for a reflective frown was deepening on Curtis's face.
"Now you recognize my name!" she cried.

"Have you seen anything about me in the newspapers ?" "You are Lady Hermione Grandison ?" he said, meeting her watchful eyes frankly.
"Yes." "Daughter of the Earl of Valletort ?" "Yes." "And about a month ago you were reported missing from some apartment in the Rue de Rivoli, on the eve of your marriage with--with some Hungarian prince ?" "Yes, Count Ladislas Vassilan." "So you came here--with Monsieur Jean de Courtois ?" "I brought him here, and paid him for his services.

I have no desire to minimize his friendly aid, but I was buying the security of his name as my husband, and he had given me his guarantee that, when it suited my purposes, he would help me to dissolve the marriage." Curtis disregarded a perceptible coldness in her tone.

He was too busy sweeping away the mists.
"What sort of guarantee ?" he asked.
"His promise, his word of honor." "Was he--a gentleman ?" "Not socially, but in every other sense.

He was my music-master in Paris." Curtis put his next question hurriedly.