Page:Ruth of the U.S.A. (IA ruthofusa00balm).pdf/137

 he questioned, as though quite casually, but Ruth knew that this was a test.

"I—don't remember," she faltered. She doubted whether Cynthia Gail had been with him on any such trip; the whole question might merely be a catch; well, if he suspected her and wanted to catch her, certainly he had her. Her progress from the moment of her appearance as Cynthia Gail had been made possible—she recognized—because of his unsuspecting acceptance of her. That had won for her championship in more powerful quarters which, in turn, had gained her favor more influential still; yet the whole pyramid of that favor balanced on the point of Hubert's original acceptance.

So she sat in the dark awaiting what this strange friend of hers should determine to do.

The French women in the opposite seats conversed between themselves. The train was drawing into Paris, they said. The rapid rattle of railroad joints and cross-tracks confirmed this to Ruth, as well as the more frequent noise of engines passing; she could see, too, low shaded signal lights. But the environs of Paris had become more black than the villages of the south; this was from danger of repetition of the severe air raids of which Ruth had heard at Bordeaux.

The train stopped; not at a station, nor did guards open the doors. Everything was black without; the few lights, which Ruth had been viewing, either had not been necessary thereabouts, or else they had been extinguished; and, with the stifling of the train noise, a weird, wailing moan rose through the night air.

"A siren!" Hubert said to Ruth. The French women,