CHAPTER VI
A FUGITIVE
"NO, madam does not know me; but she must see me. Oh, I know she will see me. Tell her, please, it is a girl from New York all alone in Paris who needs her help."
The butler looked again at the card the visitor had given him. Quick suspicion flashed into his tired eyes—the same suspicion that had all Paris mad.
"Ger-son—Mademoiselle Ger-son. That name, excuse me, if I say it—that name ees"
"It sounds German; yes. Haven't I had that told me a thousand times these last few days?" The girl's shoulders drooped limply, and she tried to smile, but somehow failed. "But it's my name, and I'm an American—been an American twenty-two years. Please—please!"
"Madam the ambassador's wife; she ees overwhelm wiz woark." The butler gave the
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