The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here. “And, after all, I am just one common person!” She watched the throb of the arteries in the stem of her neck, and put her hand at last gently and almost timidly to where her heart beat beneath her breast. “Then—then we can talk things out. He embraced her like her father once had. The effort to maintain her self-control was almost superhuman. Thames Street was wholly impassable. The five men students were a mixed company. And it is your own fault that your husband dallies with me. That’s about the beginning. His car was there. Or, better still, put all my clothes in the trunk. He tries hard to conceal it, but he cannot. It has been a marvellous day—and I am going to England.
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