here, and while they were moonin' about I was going to have a chat with you. I was goin' to tell you about that card to Charretier, and somethin' else. That the duchess asked me where we would stop in Paris, and I told her at the best there is, of course—Hotel Athenée. She said she 'd wire her friends you 'd run away from, that they could find you there; and if Charretier was n't at Fontainebleau when we passed through, these people would certainly know where to get at him. I warned you the other night, did n't I? that if you would n't be good and confide in me I 'd find out what you refused to tell me yourself; and I have, you see. Clever, aren't I?"
"You 're the hatefullest man I ever heard of!" I flung at him.
"Oh, I say! Don't speak too soon. You don't know all yet. If you don't want me to, I won't call on Charretier. Lady T. and her tuft-huntin' can go hang! And you shan't stop at the Athenée to be copped by the Duchess's friends, if you don't like. That 's what I wanted to see you about. To tell you it all depends on yourself."
"How does it depend on myself?" I asked, cautiously.
"All you have to do, to get off scot free is to be a little kind to poor Bertie. You can begin by givin' him a kiss, here in the poetic and what-you-may-call-'em forest of Fontainebleau."
"I wouldn't kiss you if you were made of gold and diamonds, and I could have you melted down to spend!" I exclaimed. And as I delivered this ultimatum, I turned to run. His legs might be longer than mine, but
