"John"--her displeasure was increasing--"if you raise your voice again I'll arrange it so you'll have plenty of chance to cool off. I'm going to the Ritz. Come and see me there this afternoon." "But, Rags!" he protested hoarsely. "Listen to me. Five years ago----" Then the watchers on the dock were treated to a curious sight. A beautiful lady in a checkered dress of sea-blue and gray took a brisk step forward so that her hands came into contact with an excited young man by her side. The young man retreating instinctively reached back with his foot, but, finding nothing, relapsed gently off the thirty-foot dock and plopped, after a not ungraceful revolution, into the Hudson River. A shout of alarm went up, and there was a rush to the edge just as his head appeared above water. He was swimming easily, and, perceiving this, the young lady who had apparently been the cause of the accident leaned over the pier and made a megaphone of her hands. "I'll be in at half past four," she cried. And with a cheerful wave of her hand, which the engulfed gentleman was unable to return, she adjusted her monocle, threw one haughty glance at the gathered crowd, and walked leisurely from the scene. II The five dogs, the three maids, and the French orphan were installed in the largest suite at the Ritz, and Rags tumbled lazily into a steaming bath, fragrant with herbs, where she dozed for the greater part of an hour. At the end of that time she received business calls from a masseuse, a manicure, and finally a Parisian hair-dresser, who restored her hair-cut to criminal's length. When John M. Chestnut arrived at four he found half a dozen lawyers and bankers, the administrators of the Martin-Jones trust fund, waiting in the hall. They had been there since half past one, and were now in a state of considerable agitation. After one of the maids had subjected him to a severe scrutiny, possibly to be sure that he was thoroughly dry, John was conducted immediately into the presence of m'selle. M'selle was in her bedroom reclining on the chaise-longue among two dozen silk pillows that had accompanied her from the other side. John came into the room somewhat stiffly and greeted her with a formal bow. "You look better," she said, raising herself from her pillows and staring at him appraisingly. "It gave you a color." He thanked her coldly for the compliment. "You ought to go in every morning." And then she added irrelevantly: "I'm going back to Paris to-morrow." John Chestnut gasped. "I wrote you that I didn't intend to stay more than a week anyhow," she added. "But, Rags----" "Why should I? There isn't an amusing man in New York." "But listen, Rags, won't you give me a chance? Won't you stay for, say, ten days and get to know me a little?" "Know you!" Her tone implied that he was already a far too open book. "I want a man who's capable of a gallant gesture." "Do you mean you want me to express myself entirely in pantomime?"