He recoiled from the sting. It may be instinctive; it may be that children vaguely realize that at the end of all wedding journeys is disillusion. “By-the-bye, Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “do you know that I am a very great admirer of your sister’s? I wonder if she has ever spoken to you of me. Gay, I've been in many odd quarters of our city—have visited haunts frequented only by thieves—the Old Mint, the New Mint, the worst part of St. Shari draped herself lazily upon her unmade bed. She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few pages, what little information she had gathered on him through the years.
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