It amounted to two-and-twenty pounds. “Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion. Dear me, what a nuisance it is to have a pseudo husband shot down upon one from the skies. You are the one person I can understand and feel—feel right with. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention.
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