CHAPTER VII FATE WITH A STICK

Shirley lay in her bunk, wide awake, staring into the darkness as the Paris _train de luxe_ thundered its way through the night _en route_ for Port St. Luc, a gay French watering place southernly situated on the Bay of Biscay. For five weeks now she and Kit had rambled about Europe together, wandering from one place to another as the spirit moved them. They had spent a few days on the shores of Lake Como, then, driven away by the stuffy heat of a wet season there, had fled to Chamonix. Here Kit, who, as she had war…