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132 “I thought you wanted me—you told me so when we kissed in the park!” He cried. “For better or worse. "Si—lence!" vociferated Charcam, laying great emphasis on the last syllable. I want to leave Paris to-day. A hollow plunge, echoed and re-echoed by the walls, marked his descent into the water. A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. . " "Silly love stories?" "No; love wasn't the theme. To use it as a passport to card-tables and gin-bottles! McClintock wasn't having any guests; at any rate, he had not mentioned the fact. " The Wastrel tried to reach Ruth's lips. And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed. If only Gerald would come. “Very likely. Meysey Hill—never your wife. "Do you want it back under the pillow?" "Hang it over a chair.

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