“That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park. It would send business elsewhere; and the hotel business in Canton was never so prosperous that one could afford to lose a single guest. More than half the city perished. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. "Thank Heaven! I'm not basely born. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone.
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