“Would it make her as miserable as to lose you altogether? If she had you and your love, no matter what unpleasant things were about, wouldn’t that be better than to be left behind here alone?” “Yes,” he said, honestly. “Yes.” She looked at him a moment, studying his face, which was set and anxious and overcast, his eyes, which were dull and brooding, and a wave of compassion surged up within her. “It has made you miserable,” she said. “I’m so sorry.” “I deserve to be miserable.” “Possibly not. Nobody can judge, but—this affair has been almost inevitable. It wasn’t your fault and it wasn’t Andree’s fault.... The circumstances were here, and you two got tangled up in them....” She glanced at her watch. “I must go now. I’m sorry I haven’t helped you—for—I wish I might help you.... Shall I see you again before you go?” “I’m afraid not.” “Then this is good-by.” She held out her hand steadily. “I hope matters turn out for—for your happiness.... Good-by.” “I shall write you.” She looked at him and smiled queerly, but made no rejoinder. “No, don’t come with me,” she said, as he walked to the door. “I’d rather go alone.... Good-by and a safe voyage.” And so the first of the two women with whom his life had become involved stepped out of his life.... CHAPTER XXVI When Kendall went to the apartment for dinner Arlette came bustling into the hall as she heard him open the door, and, poking again and again with a pudgy finger toward the rear of the place, she exclaimed, excitedly: “Monsieur Bert!... Monsieur Bert!...” “Here?” “_Oui, monsieur._” She grinned with delight. “Hey, Bert!” shouted Ken, delighted, for he had feared he would not see his friend again before he sailed. Bert came out of the door, half shaved, with a towel about his neck, and shook hands after the manner of healthy young men. “Howdy, old-timer! Gosh! it seems good to get back to you and Arlette. How have things been going without me? Seen Madeleine?” “Haven’t seen her. Things have been going all right till to-day. This morning the blow fell.” “What blow?... You look as if somebody had stolen your pet goat.” “I’m ordered to America. Leave Wednesday.” “The devil!... Oh, say, that’s rotten luck! What’s the idea?” “Don’t know. Just my confounded luck, I expect.” “Wait a minute till I finish this shave and I’ll help you weep.... How’s Andree?” They were walking back to Bert’s room, and Ken did not answer until his friend stood before the glass, razor in hand. “She’s all right.” “How did she take the news?” “She doesn’t know.” “Doesn’t know!” “I just got my orders this morning. Won’t see her until to-morrow night.” “Coming to dinner?” “Yes.” “We’ll pull a party—farewell party with all the trimmings, eh? I’ll get Madeleine and we’ll dig up a bottle of champagne and wring a _poulet_ out of Arlette if we have to call in the police to help us. I’ll bet they would, at that.”