She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. ” The lights sank, the prelude to the third act was beginning, the music rose and fell in crowded intimations of lovers separated—lovers separated with scars and memories between them, and the curtain went reefing up to display Tristan lying wounded on his couch and the shepherd crouching with his pipe. Her cogitations were dissipated by a knock on the door. This laugh and his looks alarmed her. The close-fitting round gown, if a little oldfashioned with its very narrow waist and wide skirts, was becoming on a full figure, and the low décolletage, unencumbered by any form of covering, exposed a good deal of bosom. Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. " "We'll see that, young hempseed," replied Sharples, shutting the hatch furiously in his face, and locking it. He was a business man, pure and simple, his eyes were fastened always upon the practical side of life.
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