Sebastian had known it was coming, but he could not avoid sleeping as easily as she could. Wood turned over to obtain a more comfortable position. “That young man was giving a luncheon party to a dozen friends at the Café de Paris to-day. The entire city seemed to exist for beauty and art alone. Voices floated down, but there was no sound of pursuit. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested. But he was so feeble, that it seemed scarcely possible he could offer any effectual resistance in case of an attack. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile.
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