For some time there had
been a worried look in the Prince's eyes. Once he undertook to
remonstrate with his fair companion.
"My dear Miss Guile, we'll land in jail if we keep up this hair-
raising speed. There wouldn't be any fun in that, you know."
She gave him a scornful look. "Are you afraid, Mr. Schmidt?"
"Not on my own account," said he, "but yours. I've heard that the new
regulations are extremely rigid."
"Pooh! I'm not afraid of the police. They--why, what's the matter?
Oh, goodness!"
The car had come to a somewhat abrupt stop. Two policemen, dismounted
from their bicycles, formed an insurmountable obstruction. They were
almost in the shade of the Trocadero.
"Do not be alarmed," whispered Robin to the fast paling girl, into
whose eyes the most abject misery had leaped at the sight of the two
officers. "Leave it to me. I can fix them all right. There's nothing
to be worried about--well, _sergent_, what is it?"
The polite officers came up to the window with their little note-
books.
"I regret, m'sieur, that we shall be obliged to conduct yourself and
mademoiselle to the office of a magistrate.
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