"That, m'sieur, is my name," she answered, opening her dark eyes widely in surprise at his strange and sudden attitude. "Surely it is not so very extraordinary that, in giving you, a stranger, an address at the Post Restante I should have used a name that was not my own?" CHAPTER FIFTEEN. HELD IN BONDAGE. George Stratfield walked out of his hotel next morning his mind full of Mariette Lepage's strange statements. Long and deeply he pondered over the curious situation, but could discern no solution of the intricate problem. That there was some deep mystery underlying the actions of this woman he could not fail to recognise, yet, try how he would, he nevertheless found himself regarding her with misgiving. Her coquettishness caused him grave suspicion. Although she had endeavoured to convince him of her friendliness towards Liane it was apparent from certain of her remarks that she had some ulterior motive in endeavouring to obtain from him the exact details of the tragedy. He felt confident that she was Liane's enemy. Was it not a cruel vagary of Fate that he should discover this unknown woman whom his father had designated as his wife, only to find her the bitterest foe of the woman he loved? This was the woman who, under his father's eccentric will, was to be offered twenty thousand pounds to accept him as husband! He had said nothing of the offer which sooner or later must be formally made to her, but before they had parted she had given him as her address the Villa Fortunee, at Monaco. He remembered the strange fact of one of her letters being found in Nelly Bridson's pocket, but when he mentioned it she had merely remarked that she had been acquainted with the unfortunate girl. Nevertheless, he also recollected that the letter had contained an expression never used in polite society, and that it had been considered by the police as an altogether extraordinary and rather incriminating document. Confused and bewildered, he was walking beneath the awnings on the shops of the Quai Massena on his way to the Promenade, when suddenly he heard his name uttered, and on looking up found Liane standing before him smiling. In her tailor-made gown of pale fawn with a neat toque, she presented an extremely smart and fresh-looking appearance. "You were so engrossed, George," she said half-reproachfully, with a pretty pout, "that you were actually passing me unnoticed. What's the matter? Something on your mind?" "Yes," he answered, endeavouring to laugh, so pleased was he that they had met. "I have something always on my mind--you." "Then I regret if thoughts of me induce such sadness," she answered, as turning in the direction she was walking he strolled by her side. The March sun was so warm that its fiery rays burnt his face.