Dieu du ciel, but where was Gerald? On the move again, she found herself standing before one of the mirrors, gazing into her own countenance without seeing it. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. The rest were hieroglyphic characters, executed in red chalk and charcoal. But through the fault of that pig, who dared to call himself Valade and masquerade in society under her birthright. For hats that fail and hats that flare; Toppers their universal wear; A man scores always, everywhere.
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