e a
woman. They see only surfaces."

"And are snared into marrying by complexions and pretty features and
dresses and silly flirting tricks," retorted the girl sarcastically.

Hull laughed. "I spoke too quick that time," said he. "I suppose you
expected to see something out of a fifteenth century Italian old
master! Well--it was there, all right."

Jane shrugged her shoulders. "And your Victor Dorn," said she, "no
doubt he's seated in some dry, comfortable place enjoying the thought
of his men making fools of themselves for him."

They were drawing up to the curb before the Opera House where were the
assembly rooms. "There he is now," cried Hull.

Jane, startled, leaned eagerly forward. In the rain beyond the edge of
the awning stood a dripping figure not unlike that other which had so
disappointed her. Underneath the brim of the hat she could see a
smooth-shaven youngish face--almost boyish. But the rain streaming
from the brim made satisfactory scrutiny impossible.

Jane again sank back. "How many carriages before us?" she said.

"You're disappointed in him, too, I suppose," said Hull. "I knew you
would be."

"I thought he was tall," said Jane.

"Only middling," replied Hull, curiously delighted.

"I thought he was serious," said Jane.

"On the contrary, he's always laughing. He's the best natured man I
know."

As they descended and started along the carpet under the middle of the
awning, Jane halted. She glanced toward the dripping figure whom the
police would not permit under the shelter. Said she: "I want one of
those papers."

Davy moved toward the drenched distributor of strike literature. "Give
me one, Dorn," he said in his most elegant manner.

"Sure, Davy," said Dorn in a tone that was a subtle commentary on
Hull's aristocratic tone and manner. As he spoke he glanced at Jane;
she was looking at him. Both smiled--at Davy's expense.

Davy and Jane passed on in, Jane folding the dodger to tuck it away for
future reading. She said to him: "But you didn't tell me about his
eyes."

"What's the matter with them?"

"Everything," replied she--and said no more.

II

The dance was even more tiresome than Jane had anticipated. There had
been little pleasure in outshining the easily outshone belles of Remsen
City. She had felt humiliated by having to divide the honors with a
brilliantly beautiful and scandalously audacious Chicago girl, a Yvonne
Hereford--whose style, in lo