"No-o. But you mustn't ask all these questions." "How would you like to ride around in a first-class motor-car the rest of your days?" She laughed merrily. Possibly it _was_ funny. "Are you always amusing like this?" "Supposing I were serious?" "In that case I should say you had not yet slipped off your fool's motley." This directness was discouraging. "I wonder if the ten of hearts is lucky, after all," I mused. "We are not in jail. I consider that the best of good fortune." "Give me your card," said I. She gave me the card, and I put it with mine. "Why do you do that?" "Perhaps I want to bring about an enchantment,"--soberly. "As Signor Fantoccini, or as Mr. Comstalk?" "I have long since resigned my position in the museum; it was too exciting." She made no rejoinder; and for some time there was no sound but the music of the bells. Finally we drew up under the colonial porte-cochere of Hollywood Inn and were welcomed by the genial Moriarty himself, his Celtic countenance a mirror of smiles. "Anything in the house to eat?" I cried, shaking the robes from me. "Anything ye like, if you like cowld things. I can hate ye a pot of coffee on the gasolene-burner, and there's manny a vintage in the cillars." "That will be plenty!"--joyfully, helping Miss Hawthorne to alight. "Sure, and ye are from the Hunt Club!"--noting our costumes. "Well, well! They niver have anny too much grub. Now, I'll putt ye in a little room all be yersilves, with a windy and a log-fire; cozy as ye plaze. Ye'll have nearly two hours to wait for the car-r from the village." We entered the general assembly-room. It was roomy and quaint, and somewhere above us was the inevitable room in which George Washington had slept. The great hooded fireplace was merry with crackling logs. Casually I observed that we were not alone. Over yonder, in a shadowed corner, sat two men, very well bundled up, and, to all appearances, fast asleep. Moriarty lighted a four-branched candelabrum and showed us the way to the little private dining-room, took our orders, and left us. "This is romance," said I. "They used to do these things hundreds of years ago, and everybody had a good time." "It is now all very wicked and improper," murmured the girl, laying aside her domino for the first time; "but delightful! I now find I haven't the least bit of remorse for what I have done." In that dark evening gown she was very beautiful. Her arms and shoulders were tinted like Carrara marble; and I knew instantly that I was never going to recover. I drew two chairs close to the grate. I sat down in one and she in the other. With a contented sigh she rested her blue-slippered feet on the brass fender. [Illustration: With a contented sigh she rested her blue-slippered feet on the brass fender.] "My one regret is that I haven't any shoes. What an adventure!"