Her spirit awoke in dismay to an affection in ruins, to the immense undignified disaster that had come to them. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. Immediately he was gone, she regretted that she had not followed. Goopes down on him with the lesson Titian teaches so beautifully in his “Sacred and Profane Love,” and became quite eloquent upon the impossibility of any deception in the former. CHAPTER I.
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