She lit the cigarette with a tiny Kelly green drugstore lighter. Then came the cable that you were in Canton, ill, but not dangerously so. Manning loomed up ever and again into her world, full of a futile solicitude, and almost always declaring she was splendid, splendid, and wishing he could talk things out with her. He had drawn a horrid picture of the fate that awaited mademoiselle when once the populace discovered her relationship to the Valade family. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame.
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