" So saying, he closed the lantern. Who is the other?” “What other?” Her voice seemed to come from a long way off. He reminds me of a slave I once had in Rome with those sullen dark eyes and that wistful pout. Five minutes ago, his butler had entered the green saloon, an austere apartment, with dark forest-green wallpaper flocked with a swirling design, and heavy mahogany furniture. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. “A woman wants a proper alliance with a man, a man who is better stuff than herself. D'ye hear.
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