Anna the Adventuress

Miss Ellicot swept aside her skirts from the vacant chair and welcomed

the newcomer with one of her most engaging smiles.

"We were afraid that you had deserted us for good, Mr. Hill," she said

graciously. "I suppose Paris is very, very distracting. You must come

and tell me all about it, although I am not sure whether we shall

forgive you for not having written to any of us."

Mr. Hill was exchanging greetings with his hostess, and salutations

around the table.

"Thank you, ma'am. Glad to get back, I'm sure," he said briskly.

"Looks like old times here, I see. Sorry I'm a bit late the first

evening. Got detained in the City, and----"

Then he met the fixed, breathless gaze of those wonderful eyes from

the other side of the table, and he, too, broke off in the middle of

his sentence. He breathed heavily, as though he had been running. His

large, coarse lips drew wider apart. Slowly a mirthless and very

unpleasant smile dawned upon his face.

"Great Scott!" he exclaimed huskily. "Why--it's--it's you!"

Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. The girl

regarded him with the face of a Sphinx. Only in her eyes there seemed

to be some apprehension of the fact that the young man's clothes and

manners were alike undesirable things.

"Are you speaking to me?" she asked calmly. "I am afraid that you are

making a mistake. I am quite sure that I do not know you."

A dull flush burned upon his cheeks. He took his seat at the table,

but leaned forward to address her. A note of belligerency had crept

into his tone.

"Don't know me, eh? I like that. You are--or rather you were----" he

corrected himself with an unpleasant little laugh, "Miss Pellissier,

eh?"

A little sensation followed upon his words. Miss Ellicot pursed her

lips and sat a little more upright. The lady whose husband had been

Mayor of Hartlepool looked at Anna and sniffed. Mrs. White became

conscious of a distinct sense of uneasiness, and showed it in her

face. She was obliged, as she explained continually to every one who

cared to listen, to be so very particular. On the other hand the two

young men who sat on either side of Anna were already throwing

murderous glances at the newcomer.

"My name," Anna replied calmly, "is certainly Pellissier, but I repeat

that I do not know you. I never have known you."

He unfolded his serviette with fingers which shook all the time. His

eyes never left her face. An ugly flush stained his cheeks.

"I've plenty of pals," he said, "who, when they've been doing Paris on

the Q.T., like to forget all about it--even their names. But you----"

Something seemed to catch his breath. He never finished his sentence.

There was a moment's breathless and disappointed silence. If only he

had known it, sympathy was almost entirely with him. Anna was no

favourite at No. 13 Montague Street.