and Mrs. His hug became an embrace. That was the glorious if bewildering truth. He continued his ditty, in spite of the angry glances of his leader. Shall we sit outside and drink a petit verre of something to give us an appetite while dinner is being prepared?” “Certainly not,” she answered. I'm speaking of virtuous women—of WIVES, Madam. I mean—I mean to do what I can. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. The hansom drove off. But what did the occupant of the box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the muddle. “I shan’t eat him. "That gown is getting shabby.
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