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THE KING IN YELLOW.

Clémence and Marie Tellec and Cosette and Fifine, Colette, Marie Verdier———”

“All of whom are charming, most charming, but I never was serious———”

“So help me Moses,” said Elliott, solemnly, “each and every one of those named have separately and in turn torn your heart with anguish and have also made me lose my place at Julian’s in this same manner; each and every one, separately and in turn. Do you deny it?”

“What you say may be founded on facts—in a way—but give me the credit of being faithful to one at a time———”

“Until the next came along.”

“But this,—this is really very different. Elliott, believe me, I am all broken up.”

Then there being nothing else to do, Elliott gnashed his teeth and listened.

“It’s—it’s Rue Barrée.”

“Well,” observed Elliott, with scorn, “if you are moping and moaning over that girl,—the girl who has given you and myself every reason to wish that the ground would open and engulf us,—well, go on!”

“I’m going on,—I don’t care; timidity has fled———”

“Yes, your native timidity.”

“I’m desperate, Elliott. Am I in love? Never, never did I feel so d———n miserable. I can’t sleep; honestly, I’m incapable of eating properly.”

“Same symptoms noticed in the case of Colette.”

“Listen, will you?”

“Hold on a moment, I know the rest by heart. Now let me ask you something. Is it your belief that Rue Barrée is a pure girl?”