"I don't know; I really don't know. Paris is not the place for two young girls. "I don't understand you, gentlemen," stammered he, at length. He was a small, dark, reserved man, with a large inflexiblelooking convex forehead, and his wife was very pink and high-spirited, with one of those chins that pass insensibly into a full, strong neck. Their colloquy was ended abruptly by the apparition of Miss Klegg at the further door. She stood on the mat instead, and looked down on him. Now the pig knew where to find her—for it would not take long for a Catholic to locate the convent in Golden Square—even if she escaped him here. Confidence in himself would strengthen him.
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