As soon as she noticed the stranger, she honoured him with an extremely impudent stare, and scarcely endeavoured to disguise the admiration with which his good looks impressed her. “Here goes for the new life!” “Here goes for the new life,” he echoed and stood up. I had left Paris. The storm burst upon them in its fury. In a side-glance—for the floor was variously encumbered with overturned objects—he saw one of his paper weights, a coloured glass ball such as McClintock used in trade. She saw it, and checked without thinking. Nuns, I mean. . The open windows were above them now and, unless the intruder were to lean out, they could not possibly be seen. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. “You are absurd,” she declared.
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