“If you say so, Lucy. . " "The ways of Providence are inscrutable," observed Wood. “Pellissier,” she repeated thoughtfully. ” “But your dinner!” she protested. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness. After all there are other things. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. At this moment she was staring ahead; and again came the opportunity to study her.
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