I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again. There was also a curious interview at a big hotel with a middle-aged, white-powdered woman, all covered with jewels and reeking of scent, who wanted a Companion. Father and daughter regarded each other warily, each more than a little insecure with the other. She thought of an old abandoned barn that she could inhabit further downriver, but shrugged off the idea in disdain. “It sounds too ridiculous. "You are no longer Thames Darrell," she said, casting her eyes rapidly over it; "but the Marquis de Chatillon.
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