‘That is, if she’s gone that way. —I do not congratulate you on your success. "Your uncle must protect you. He daren't quarrel with me: and if he does, let him look to himself. I do—with all my heart. "I've counted ten coffins so far. When they reached her rooms she stepped lightly out upon the pavement. Visiting? Dressed for it, certainly. She got a bun and some cocoa in the little refreshment-room, and then wandered through the galleries up-stairs, crowded with Polynesian idols and Polynesian dancinggarments, and all the simple immodest accessories to life in Polynesia, to a seat among the mummies. Then a hansom drove up, and his heart gave a great leap. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. "He is gone!" cried Mrs. Lucy auditioned on a borrowed violin. “You are a funny, a very funny young lady,” he said, “but we waste time here.
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