Poor child, she tried so hard to speak naturally, but her emotion betrayed her.  Indeed, it seemed to Alice, in that moment of suspense, that her lover must hear the loud beating of her heart.

“Ah, I see,” he cried, eying her steadily, “she did not give you her address and you are trying to get it from me.  Do you even know her name?”

“No,” confessed Alice shamefacedly.  “Forgive me, I—­I wanted to help you.”

“By making me do a dishonorable thing?”

“Don’t look at me like that.  I wouldn’t have you do a dishonorable thing; but——­”

“Who told you to ask me these questions?”

“M.  Coquenil.”

“What, the detective?”

“Yes.  He believes you innocent, Lloyd, and he’s going to prove it.”

“I hope he does, but—­tell him to leave this woman alone.”

“Oh, he won’t do that; he says he will find out who she is in a few days, anyway.  That’s why I thought——­”

“I understand,” he said comfortingly, “and the Lord knows I want to get out of this hole, but—­we’ve got to play fair, eh?  Now let’s drop all that and—­do you want to make me the happiest man in the world?  I’m the happiest man in Paris already, even here, but if you will tell me one thing—­why—­er—­this prison won’t cut any ice at all.”

“What do you want me to tell you?” she asked uneasily.

“You little darling!” he said tenderly.  “You needn’t tell me anything if it’s going to make you feel badly, but, you see, I’ve got some lonely hours to get through here and—­well, I think of you most of the time and—­” He took her hand fondly in his.

“Dear, dear Lloyd!” she murmured.

“And I’ve sort of got it in my head that—­do you want to know?”

“Yes, I want to know,” she said anxiously.

“I believe there’s some confounded mystery about you, and, if you don’t mind, why—­er——­”

Alice started to her feet, and Lloyd noticed, as she faced him, that the pupils of her eyes widened and then grew small as if from fright or violent emotion.

“Why do you say that?  What makes you think there is a mystery about me?” she demanded, trying vainly to hide her agitation.

“Now don’t get upset—­please don’t!” soothed Kittredge.  “If there isn’t anything, just say so, and if there is, what’s the matter with telling a chap who loves you and worships you and whose love wouldn’t change for fifty mysteries—­what’s the matter with telling him all about it?”

“Are you sure your love wouldn’t change?” she asked, still trembling.

“Did yours change when they told you things about me?  Did it change when they arrested me and put me in prison?  Yes, by Jove, it did change, it grew stronger, and that’s the way mine would change, that’s the only way.”

He spoke so earnestly and with such a thrill of fondness that Alice was reassured, and giving him her hand with a happy little gesture, she said:  “I know, dear.  You see, I love you so much that—­if anything should come between us, why—­it would just kill me.”