Some one passing struck a match, and she caught a glimpse of the white face of the man who sat by her side--strained now and curiously intense.
"Supposing I did!" "You must be mad!" he declared.

"You must not talk to me like this, Mademoiselle.

I have no secret.

It is your humor, I know, but it is dangerous." "There is no danger," she murmured, "for we are alone.

I say again, Rudolph, supposing this were true ?" His hand passed across his forehead.