” “Are you a detective or a doctor?” she asked calmly. “Your brother has gone?” she asked Sydney, between the courses. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. ’ ‘You see, I am of them,’ she said seriously, ‘but not with them—yet. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. “Who are you?” She asked innocently. A delicate flush of colour streamed into her cheeks. And if I hadn't been thirsty, that poor boob would have made a sure getaway and left James Boyle high and dry among the moth-balls! Oh, the old dome works once every so often. He was the Napoleon of knavery, and established an uncontrolled empire over all the practitioners of crime.
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