“Does he live here?” he asked her presently. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. ‘You are too shrewd for me, ma’am. She became aware that at regular intervals a light flashed upon her face and a bodiless eye regarded her, and this, as the night wore on, became a torment. To get behind that impenetrable curtain, to learn why she hated her island. It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. We have known men who have come here for no other purpose than to prove their unassailable virtue, who have strode into the arena of temptation, waving the—the what is it—the white flower of a blameless life, only to exchange it with marvellous facility for the violets of the Parisienne. I do not care, but only that you will leave my affairs to me. As O'Higgins signed the hotel register, his keen glance took in the latest signatures. The lady had disappeared. “The fellow is not such a blackguard, after all.
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