She walked straight across to the wardrobe and opened it. ‘Because,’ said Lady Bicknacre in the confidential manner of all matrons when passing on a tidbit of scandal, ‘Nicholas married against his father’s wishes and ran away. Nevertheless, Sir John had the look of a man who was enjoying himself. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. For a time I didn't know we'd ever find you. Only promise me to amend—to quit your vile companions—and I will forgive you—will bless you. You have converted me to—Lester Ward! You are my dear friend, you are a slip of a girl, but there are moments when my head has been on your breast, when your heart has been beating close to my ears, when I have known you for the goddess, when I have wished myself your slave, when I have wished that you could kill me for the joy of being killed by you. Maggot. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. He was a comforting, humorous old ruffian; but there were few men in the Orient more deeply read in psychology and physiognomy.
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