was the first unconscious movement she had made since he had been watching her,—that little start, and quick turn of the head. She seemed to have grown restless, for in a moment she laid her hand on Gray Grosvenor's arm, and disappeared with him out into the square hall, where the crowd of butterflies was thickest, and there he lost sight of her.
It was a brilliant spectacle at which Charles Farwell stood looking, with the copy of the "Evening Telegram" in his pocket, but when Gladys left the room, its chief attraction had departed. It was rather chilly in the night air, and, drawing a cigar from his pocket, he was about to strike a match, when he perceived that he was not the only outside spectator of the scene; a man of low stature approached him and stood looking in at the window next the one where he had taken his stand. Farwell did not care to be seen, so he quietly put back his cigar in the case, and the match in his pocket, and drew
