WHITEWASH
chair for her, "because I knew that you would insist on 'out-of-doors' if you froze for it; but the lunch is hot, so I'll let you have your way."
"Line of least resistance," she laughed. "By the way, speaking of resistance, I see you won your case."
He nodded. "Yes, but it was more trouble than it was worth; the law—"
"Tell me," she broke in, abruptly, "do you know anything about extradition? I've managed to get myself mixed up in a possible Franco-Russian-American row, and I'm beginning to be sorry for it."
"You'll be considerably more sorry before you're through, my dear, unsophisticated infant. You'll have subpœnas and things served on you."
She held up an appealing hand. "Don't! You make me feel like a dining-table."
"You'll feel more like the dinner when they dish you up, young lady. How did you ever get mixed up in the thing?"
"That's the worst of it," Victoria answered, ruefully. "I did it. I've pushed the button, and I suppose it's opened the Exposition, like the
