Jack had no sooner taken his place in the cart, than he was followed by the ordinary, who seated himself beside him, and, opening the book of prayer, began to read aloud. Do you want me, too?” “Yes,” she whispered foolishly, in the throes of rapture. “He has asked to see some one,” he whispered to the doctor. Her stomach growled, and she clutched at it in reaction, haphazardly observing that the gown had been changed to silk. For the most part these were detached people: men practising the plastic arts, young writers, young men in employment, a very large proportion of girls and women—self-supporting women or girls of the student class. The theme was a masquerade. I thank God for the beauty you love and the faults you love. I wrenched this off, and in an envelope addressed to me in faded ink, I found the locket and the pearls. Larry would be up soon. “That was a moment of madness,” she said.
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