Of course, you've hidden them." "Mama's out.

I won't be a minute." Away she flew under the trees, out through the rose bushes, a white, graceful, flitting figure.

She vanished.

Presently she came bounding into sight again and handed Lane a bundle of notes.
"Did you keep back any ?" he asked, as he tried to find pockets enough for the collection.
"Not one." "I'll go home and read them all.

Then I'll meet you here to-night at eight o'clock." "But--I've a date.