"Certainly; silk-lined, fur-tipped gauntlets. I told you my errand was gloves; pray what other reason?"
"You are going to get a glimpse of 'Juno.'"
"Juno? Nearly everything comes to New York sooner or later, but really I never imagined she could step out from the books of mythology. I hunt no goddess. When you pay your wager, be sure to select delicate fawn color, that will match my spring jacket."
"The debt is yours. Confess, Eglah—honor bright—you are curious about the woman who sells gloves in Fourteenth Street."
"I will present to you a witch's skirt, cap, and broomstick. But why 'Juno'?"
"The matter was thrashed out at the club last week, where Vandiver told us some artist had compared her to a print of the Ludovisi Juno hanging in Goupil's window. Hence her elevation to Olympus."
"Then you know all about her?"
"On the contrary, I never saw her; but she seems to be the magnet drawing people to——just now."
The carriage stopped, and Eglah walked into the department store.
"Come in, Mr. Noel, and pick out your gauntlets."