M._
RETURNED:
ADDRESS: _West 87th Street_
FRIARD'S
I stared at the bit of pasteboard, fascinated. How the deuce had this
got into my apartments? A Blue Domino? Ha! I had it! Old Friard had
accidentally done up the ticket with my mask. A Blue Domino; evidently
I wasn't the only person who was going to a masquerade. Without doubt
this fair demoiselle was about to join the festivities of some
shop-girls' masquerade, where money and pedigree are inconsequent
things, and where everybody is either a "loidy" or a "gent." Persons
who went to my kind of masquerade did not rent their costumes; they
laid out extravagant sums to the fashionable modiste and tailor, and
had them made to order. A Blue Domino: humph!
It was too late to take the ticket back to Friard's; so I determined to
mail it to him in the morning.
It was now high time for me to be off. I got into my coat and took
down my opera hat. Outside the storm was still active; but the snow
had a promising softness, and there were patches of stars to be seen
here and there in the sky. By midnight there would be a full moon. I
got to Jersey City without mishap; and when I took my seat in the
smoker, I found I had ten minutes to spare.
Pages:
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37