"I'm afraid you'll never see a woman with a lover's eyes."
"On the contrary," he replied, "I should see her always with a lover's eyes. In an east wind, I should resent the redness of her nose, in the summer, the flaming patch on the front of her chest, symbolical of the kisses of June. Imagine, Miss Craven, what must be the feelings of a Romeo when he discovers that his Juliet has a bilious attack, or the agony of a Pelléas when he finds that Mélisande wears false teeth, or again, think of the emotion of an Abelard on hearing that Héloise has chilblains."
Lola laughed; but before she had time to speak Mrs. Crisp broke in
"Such dreadful things, Lord Drewitt. I have them in the winter. Mr. Quelch has them also. Don't you, Mr. Quelch? I've tried everything. They're really most painful. Somebody once told me it was eating too much meat. And it's so difficult to get. I believe vegetarians never have them."
"Vegetarians never have anything, Mrs. Crisp," said Drewitt, "except babies, shapeless clothing, and garden-cities."
Mrs. Crisp laughed. Her laugh was a thing of startling suddenness. Half closing her eyes and depressing her brows, she gave the impression of one about to burst into tears. Beresford dreaded her amusement; it was so depressing in its expression.
"Do you believe in romance, Mr. Quelch?" enquired Lola, looking across at the medium, who had been singularly quiet throughout the meal, devoting
