“That was why you knew that Aunt Louise would send Clementine and me to lie down,” Atalanta suggested.
“I was sure that at seven o’clock you would start dressing for dinner,” Paul replied. “I thought you might, until then, have an hour or so to yourself.”
“Can I come again tomorrow?”
“Do you want to?”
“You know I do.”
“Then I shall be waiting.”
Atalanta remembered how Paul had said these words to her once before.
Would he always be waiting for her, she wondered. Suppose the day came when he was no longer there?
She felt a little throb of fear and Paul said,
“I would so much like to show you Paris at night. I would like to take you to the Le Chat Noir, where all the artists go. It is something unique that you will not see as you go only from soirée to soirée, from social occasion t
