Good Books

"Bother your wife!" she cried angrily, "and you too! Look out! or I tell
the manager we've got a beggar at the Brilliant. Don't stare at me like
that! Go to the d----l with you!"
Tommy slunk off abashed and trembling, and the Vere began to sing, or
rather croak, a low comic song, while she threw over her shoulders a
rich mantle glittering with embroidered trimmings, and poised a
coquettish Paris model hat on her thick untwisted coils of hair. Thus
attired, she passed out of her dressing-room, locking the door behind
her, and after a brief conversation with the jocose acting manager, whom
she met on her way out, she left the theatre, and took a cab to the
Criterion, where the young Duke of Moorlands, her latest conquest, had
invited her to a sumptuous luncheon with himself and friends, all men of
fashion, who were running through what money they had as fast as they
could go.
Lady Winsleigh, on her way home, was tormented by sundry uncomfortable
thoughts and sharp pricks of conscience.


Pages:
749 750 751 752 753 754 755 756 757 758 759 760 761 762 763 764 765 766 767 768 769 770 771 772 773