” “I say,” she reflected, “you ARE rather the master, you know. The theme was a masquerade. We must take the children—of any race—if we would teach knowledge. It is really amusing. “How would you prevent it?” she asked. “I believe it is. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. He smiled tenderly. At times he was brilliant and masterful, talked round and over every one, and would have been domineering if he had not been extraordinarily kindly; at times he was almost monosyllabic, and defeated Miss Garvice’s most skilful attempts to draw him out. You are afraid—that here in London—I shall not be a success. Gone off, cool as you please, and left me to manage everything.
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