"What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively. “Ferringhall, were you or were you not dining last night at a certain restaurant in the Boulevard des Italiennes with—la petite Pellissier?” Now indeed Sir John was moved. ’ ‘Ah, that was an affair altogether different,’ she explained and fluttered her long lashes at him. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight. " "What motive can you have for so vile a deed?" asked Mrs. "Lady Trafford would not have thus condemned me!" cried Thames.
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