Mrs. ” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch. It'll be your turn to save mine next. " "This is folly," cried Jack, controlling himself by a powerful effort. His grip twisted her wrist. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. Lightheaded, she threw up in the courtyard of the Palazzo as servants crowded her in alarm. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. She was fine and tender. And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. Giles! "Devil seize the woman!" growled the singer, as he brought his ditty to a close; "will nothing tempt her out? Widow Sheppard, I say," he added, rising, "don't be afraid.
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