“In self-defence I had to,” she answered. She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her. Upon my word—you are Miss Pellissier, aren’t you?” “I certainly am,” she admitted. “I really owe him something of an apology. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. And you talk like that! What the devil have you been up to, to land in this bog?" It was a cast at random. To-night I locked up my flat at six o’clock. You come to England, and hide in a secret convent in London.
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