The Intruder

He stalked across the room and without waiting to be asked helped himself to a whisky-and-soda. Anna looked quickly at Alban as though to say, "You must help me in this." Twenty-four hours ago she would not have protested at this man's intrusion, but to-night the glamor of the love-dream was still upon her, the idyll of her romance echoed in her ears and would admit no other voice.

"Willy," she said firmly, "you know that you cannot stop. My father would never forgive me. He has absolutely forbidden you the house."

He turned round, the glass still in his hand and the soda from the siphon running in a fountain over the table-cloth.

"Your father! He's in Paris, ain't he? Are we going to telegraph about it? What nonsense you are talking, Anna!"

"I am telling you what I mean. You cannot stop here and you must go to the hotel immediately."

He looked at her quite gravely, cast an ugly glance upon Alban and instantly understood.

"Oh, so that's the game. I've tumbled into the nest and the young birds are at home. Say it again, Anna. You show me the door because this young gentleman doesn't like my company. Is it that or something else? Perhaps I'll take it that the old girl upstairs is going to ask me my intentions. The sweet little Anna Gessner of my youth has got the megrims and is off to Miss Bolt-up-Right to have a good cry together--eh, what, are you going to cry, Anna? Hang me if you wouldn't give the crocodiles six pounds and a beating--eh, what, six pounds and a beating and odds on any day."