She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. Melusine’s eyes shifted. Without her, it was lonely. Retreating as quickly as he could, Jack opened the first door he came to, entered a room, and searching in the dark for some place of concealment, fortunately discovered a skreen, behind which he crept. In the present instance she did not want any interference; she did not want the doctor's wisdom to edge in between these two young fools and spoil the drama. Women are hypocrites to the last—true only to themselves. The thought of them distressed her without subtracting at all from the oceans of happiness in which she swam.
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