“A nice time of anxiety you’ve given me, young lady,” he said, as he entered the room. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. Each was draped in transparent silk, dancing, beckoning to me, teasing me. This is my first venture over here. I'm thinking that the Wastrel was one day a celebrated professional; and the women were partly the cause of his fall. I ought to stay the night through; but I'm late now for an operation at the hospital. Once or twice she commented upon it, but she knew that it was resultant of his fear of her impending departure.
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