sacred. For she loved him with a clean heart, loved him infinitely.
Let us smile at it--tenderly--and pass on.
But upon my word, when I think of how unreasonably, how outrageously
Margaret had behaved during the entire evening, I am tempted to
depose her as our heroine. I begin to regret I had not selected Adèle
Haggage.
She would have done admirably. For, depend upon it, she, too, had
her trepidations, her white nights, her occult battles over Hugh Van
Orden. Also, she was a pretty girl--if you care for brunettes--and
accomplished. She was versed in I forget how many foreign languages,