” “No, I don’t. Whenever ecstasy— any kind of ecstasy—filled her heart to bursting, these physical expressions eased the pressure. “That young man was giving a luncheon party to a dozen friends at the Café de Paris to-day. Paris, always beautiful even in the darkness, glittered away to the horizon. Firmly built, as it was, the bridge creaked in such a manner with their contending efforts, that Abraham durst not venture beyond the door, where he stood, holding the light, a horrified spectator of the scene. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. Her husband stared at her over the candle flame. And, as he quitted the room, the poor widow fell with her face upon the floor.
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