"Sure, and ye are from the Hunt Club!"--noting our costumes. "Well,
well! They niver have anny too much grub. Now, I'll putt ye in a
little room all be yersilves, with a windy and a log-fire; cozy as ye
plaze. Ye'll have nearly two hours to wait for the car-r from the
village."
We entered the general assembly-room. It was roomy and quaint, and
somewhere above us was the inevitable room in which George Washington
had slept. The great hooded fireplace was merry with crackling logs.
Casually I observed that we were not alone. Over yonder, in a shadowed
corner, sat two men, very well bundled up, and, to all appearances,
fast asleep. Moriarty lighted a four-branched candelabrum and showed
us the way to the little private dining-room, took our orders, and left
us.
"This is romance," said I. "They used to do these things hundreds of
years ago, and everybody had a good time."
"It is now all very wicked and improper," murmured the girl, laying
aside her domino for the first time; "but delightful! I now find I
haven't the least bit of remorse for what I have done."
In that dark evening gown she was very beautiful. Her arms and
shoulders were tinted like Carrara marble; and I knew instantly that I
was never going to recover.
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