He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. She had a better voice than I, and the rest I suppose is only a trick. "I owe you nothing," he repeated, dully. I forget. ‘How so?’ he asked, and she noted that he allowed his pistol to dangle a little from his fingers. He said that for him beauty justified life, that he could not imagine a good action that was not a beautiful one nor any beautiful thing that could be altogether bad.
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