on, appeared vastly important.
Adrian, released from an ex-Lady Mayoress, came up all smiles, to greet
us. Doria gave him a glance which in spite of my devotion to Barbara and
my abhorrence of hair's breadth deviation from strict monogamy dealt me
a pang of unregenerate jealousy. There is only one man in the universe
worthy of being so regarded by a woman; and he is oneself. Every
true-minded man will agree with me. She was inordinately proud of him;
proud too of herself in that she had believed in him and given him her
love long before he became famous. Adrian's eyes softened as they met
the glance. He turned to Barbara.
"It's in a crowd like this that she looks so mysterious--an Elemental;
but whether of Earth, Air, Fire or Water, I shall spend my life trying
to discover."
The faintest flush possible mounted to that pure ivory-white cheek of
hers. She laughed and caught me by the arm.
"I must carry you to Lady Bagshawe--you're taking her in to dinner. Her
husband is Master of the Organ-Grinders' Company--"
"No, no, Doria," said I.
"--Well, it's some city company--I don't know--and she is a museum of
diseases and a gazetteer of cure places. Now you know where you are."
She led me to Lady Bagshawe. Soon afterwards we trooped down to dinner,
during which I learned more of my inside than I knew before, and more of
that of Lady Bagshawe than any of her most fervent adorers in their
wildest dreams could have ever hoped to ascertain; during which, also, I
endeavoured to convince an unknown, but agreeable lady on my left that I
did not play polo, whereat, it seemed, her eight brothers were experts;
and that Omar Khayyam was a contemporary not of the Prophet Isaiah, but
of William the Conqueror. As for the setting--I am not an observant
man--but I had an impression of much gold and silver and rare flora on
the table, great gold frames enclosing (I doubt not) costly pictures on
the walls, many desirable jewels on undesirable bosoms, strong though
unsympathetic masculine faces, and such food and drink as Lucullus, poor
fellow, did not live long enough to discover.
When the ladies retired, and we moved up towards our host, I found
myself between two groups; one discussing the mercantile depravity of a
gentleman called Wilmot, of whom I had never heard, the other arguing
on dark dilemmas connected with an Abyssinian loan. A vacant chair
happening to be by my side, Adrian, glass in hand, came round the table
and sa
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