“You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately. “It can’t make any difference to you, and there are not half a dozen people in Paris who could tell us apart. " "Ay—ay," laughed Jonathan. ‘And nnever would you have f-found it. " "Unpossible, master," rejoined Ben; "the tide's running down like a mill-sluice, and the wind's right in our teeth. ‘Leonardo again,’ he growled. She yielded it without protest, as though unconsciously. She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother.
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