Gerald frowned. "Mrs. And I’m off to America, and if my steamer goes to the bottom of the Atlantic I’ll thank the Lord for it. It began as a joke. The money will last longer, and—it won’t bother you. She heard them diving after her, and noted their starting eyes as they spied the opened panel. Paris looms behind—a tragedy of strange recollections—here she emerges Phœnix-like, subtly developed, a flawless woman, beautiful, self-reliant, witty, a woman with the strange gift of making all others beside her seem plain or vulgar. Hanging on the wall was a temple censer, bronze, moulded in the shape of a lotus blossom with stem and leaves—deadly as a club. The name of this damsel was Edgeworth Bess; and, as her fascinations will not, perhaps, be found to be without some influence upon the future fortunes of her boyish admirer, we have thought it worth while to be thus particular in describing them.
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