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Rh ble I noticed a bandage she had put on my arm, and that the sun was rather low for so early in the afternoon, and wondered why.

"I'm glad you're awake," said she tremulously. "I was afraid you'd gone to sleep for good. You must have lost an awful lot of blood. I've been tying you up and trying to decide which was best for you—St. Lazare or a happy death."

I reached over, took her hand and kissed it several times.

"Neither," I answered. "I want life. I feel as fresh as a daisy! The first thing," I answered, "is for me to get out of these tweeds and back into my soutane. Now, if you'll kindly step over there while I crawl out of these tourist's clothes. Then we'll bury em and go to Paris. At the octroi I'll get another cab and go to where I live."

"No you won't," said Rosalie, "I'm going to take you to Sœur Anne Marie."

"Jamais de la vie!" I answered.

"See here!" said Rosalie, with a little jerk of her head. "I don't know what your name is, and you tell me you've been a crook; but you've been mighty square with me, and you are a countryman of mine and are badly hurt, and I'm not going to leave you in such a fix as this. There's bound to be a tremendous sensation over this thing, and every wounded man in Paris is apt to be overhauled. Now Sister Anne Marie and I have got a nice little apartment. So don't let's have any more nonsense!"

"But what would Sœur Anne Marie say?" I asked, rather weakly. "And what are you going to tell her?"