"No, my child; it is intentional.
Manuel urges him to come, but he only sends poor excuses." "But," said the girl, shading her face from the lamp and speaking with some suddenness, "why have you not sent word to him by some other person ?" M.D'Hemecourt looked up at his daughter a moment, and then smiled at his own simplicity.
"Ah!" he said.

"Certainly; and that is what I will--run away, Pauline.
There is Manuel, now, ahead of time!" A step was heard inside the cafe.

The maiden, though she knew the step was not Mazaro's, rose hastily, opened the nearest door, and disappeared.

She had barely closed it behind her when Galahad Shaughnessy entered the apartment.
M'Hemecourt rose up, both surprised and confused.
"Good-evening, Munsher D'Himecourt," said the Irishman.

"Munsher D'Himecourt, I know it's against rules--I say, I know it's against rules to come in here, but"-- smiling,--"I want to have a private wurd with ye.
I say, I want to have a private wurd with ye." In the closet of bottles the maiden smiled triumphantly.