“What a gloomy person you are!” she murmured. She realized that he was the sort of man one does not think much about at dinners. And the grotesquest fact was that she did not so much loathe, as experience with a quite critical condemnation this strange sensation of being kissed. "Drink this," cried Jonathan, handing her the cup. ” She stopped buttoning her glove, and looked at him. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. . A stomacher, fastened by imitationdiamond buckles, girded that part of her person, which should have been a waist; a coral necklace encircled her throat, and a few black patches, or mouches, as they were termed, served as a foil to the bloom of her cheek and chin.
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