Hill lost a little of his truculency. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. ‘Gerald, what have you been about? Dorothée tells me that you were flirting outrageously with Madame Valade on Monday night. My motive in coming hither is to serve you, and save your life. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed huskily. The moon had arisen, and everything could be as plainly distinguished as during the day. She could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time.
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