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"What is the Louvre like?" she asked, tremulously, determined to be brave.
As he had seen the Louvre only from the outside, his imaginary description was cautious, general, and brief.
After a silence, Rue asked whether he thought that their suitcases were quite safe.
"Certainly," he smiled. "I checked them."
"And you're sure they are safe?"
"Of course, darling. What worries you?"
And, as she hesitated, he remembered that she had forgotten to put something into her suitcase and that the chauffeur had driven her back to the house to get it while he himself went into the Gayfield House to telephone Stull.
"What was it you went back for, Rue?" he asked.
"One thing I went back for was my money."
"Money? What money?"
"Money my grandmother left me. I was to have it when I married--six thousand dollars."
"You mean you have it in your suitcase?" he asked, astonished.
"Yes, half of it."
"A cheque?"
"No, in hundreds."
"Bills?"
"Yes. I gave father three thousand. I kept three thousand."
"In bills," he repeated, laughing. "Is your suitcase locked?"
"Yes. I insisted on having my money in cash. So Mr. Wexall, of the Mohawk Bank, sent a messenger with it last evening."
"But," he asked, still immensely amused, "why do you want to travel about with three thousand dollars in bills in your suitcase?"
She flushed a little, tried to smile:
"I don't know why. I never before had any money. It is--pleasant to know I have it."
"But I'll give you all you want, Rue."
"Thank you.... I have my own, you see."
"Of course. Put it away in some bank. When you want pin money, ask me."
She shook her head with a troubled smile.
"I couldn't ask anybody for money," she explained.
"Then you don't have to. We'll fix your allowance."
"Thank you, but I have my money, and I don't need it."
This seemed to amuse him tremendously; and even Rue laughed a little.
"You are going to take your money to Paris?" he asked.
"Yes."
"To buy things?"
"Oh, no. Just to have it with me."
His rather agreeable laughter sounded again.
"So _that_ was what you forgot to put in your suitcase," he said. "No wonder you went back for it."
"There was something else very important, too."
"What, darling?"
"My drawings," she explained innocently.
"Your drawings! Do you mean you've got them, too?"
"Yes. I want to take them to Paris and compare them with the pictures I shall see there. It ought to teach me a great deal. Don't you think so?"
"Are you crazy to study?" he asked, touched to the quick by her utter ignorance.
"It's all I dream about. If I could work that way and support myself and my father and mother----"
"But, Rue! Wake up! We're married, little girl. You don't have to work to support anybody!"
"I--forgot," said the girl vaguely, her confused grey eyes resting on his laughing, greenish ones.
Still laughing, he summoned the waiter, paid the reckoning; Ruhannah rose as he did; they went slowly out together.
On the sidewalk beside their car stood the new chauffeur, smoking a cigarette which he threw away without haste when he caught sight of them. However, he touched the peak of his cap civilly, with his forefinger.
Brandes, lighting a cigar, let his slow eyes rest on the new man for a moment. Then he helped Rue into the tonneau, got in after her, and thoughtfully took the wheel, conscious that there was something or other about his new chauffeur that he did not find entirely to his liking.
CHAPTER X