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A nurse came hurrying up. ’ She jumped up, and moved impatiently to the door. ’ She threw a melting look at Roding. He remained standing by the stem of the proa, his glance roving investigatingly. ’ Exasperated, Gerald glared at her. Hetty, looking out of the window—she always smoked her after-breakfast cigarette at the window for the benefit of the less advanced section of Morningside Park society—and trying not to raise objections, saw Miss Stanley going down toward the shops. But with the morning, the glorious unstained morning the passion of living would stir even the blood of a clod. ’ Gerald was relieved to find the girl did not attempt to run away, but meekly allowed him to usher her into the spacious and comfortable library which was his habitual haunt when at home. “One doesn’t wait,” said Ann Veronica. I have never in my life been so much puzzled by any one as by your sister. She sat down by the paperrack with a general feeling of resemblance to Vivie Warren, and looked through the Morning Post and Standard and Telegraph, and afterward the half-penny sheets. But what the deuce! He was human; he was a machine only when on the hunt. 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.

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