A black-garbed figure crept forward, noiselessly, towards Gosse’s back. I won’t even ask. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. She pulled herself together and put her eye to the eye-piece. Then, even as they stood there, the room was plunged into darkness. They are long gone. Rhea writhed and scuttled about like a crab. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. “Why would she do that? Why does she care? That’s a waste of her time. Well, that’s the situation. She blushed prettily, and in a moment regained command of her tongue. Ladies with weapon’s on ’em. But I have two hundred thousand pounds. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. "Pish!" exclaimed Hogarth.
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