quivered as she drew Peewee to her and clasped him with her trembling arms. Her sweet blue eyes showed comprehension now, shining through tears and strangely deep and tender, as she fought her feelings down.
"Dear, how did you find out who I was?"
He wanted to remember that if it would please her.
"I saw your picture."
"Yes, dear. Where was it? Did it have my name on it? Tell me about the picture."
"It was in the newspaper."
He was trying to recollect.
There had been two pretty ladies in the newspaper picture—this one and the woman he had seen for the first time to-night, when she had leaned from the limousine to speak to Walter and then had driven on. Their names had been below.
"It said Mrs. Walter Markyn," he replied.
"Yes, dear."
"And—." He hesitated. "And Mrs. Cord," he said.
"Who told you, dear, which one was I?"
