Mr. He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. "Neither man nor woman shall apply that term to me. “It is true,” he said, “that I was dining last night at a restaurant in the Boulevard des Italiennes, and it is true that my companion was a young lady whose name is Pellissier. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. He had absorbed her in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked. “Umph!” he said, and regarded his letter doubtfully before consigning it to the pillar-box. And this was an adventure of which he had dreamed from boyhood: aboard a windjammer on the South Seas. “Whither away?” he said, very distinctly in a curiously wheedling voice. Mr.
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