” “The real, identical other,” said Capes, and took and bit the tip of her little finger. She was herself conscious of a recklessness of spirits almost hysterical. We have known men who have come here for no other purpose than to prove their unassailable virtue, who have strode into the arena of temptation, waving the—the what is it—the white flower of a blameless life, only to exchange it with marvellous facility for the violets of the Parisienne. “Hey, Mike. ’ Kimble’s widening gaze told its own tale, but still he kept his fingers on the handle of the door. Then with an indescribable relief her feet were on the pavement, and she was being urged along by two policemen, who were gripping her wrists in an irresistible expert manner.
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