“So now we know where you get your cash!” added West; “ vive le coup du Père François! ”

Trent shook hands with everybody and laughed at Sylvia’s pale face.

“I didn’t mean to be late; I stopped on the bridge a moment to watch the bombardment. Were you anxious, Sylvia?”

She smiled and murmured, “Oh, no!” but her hand dropped into his and tightened convulsively.

“To the table!” shouted Fallowby, and uttered a joyous whoop.

“Take it easy,” observed Thorne, with a remnant of manners; “you are not the host, you know.”

Marie Guernalec, who had been chattering with Colette, jumped up and took Thorne’s arm and Monsieur Guernalec drew Odile’s arm through his.