he
disdains me." Even Jawkins had spoken of her as the most beautiful woman
in the world.

The thought of Jawkins recalled the incident of the morning, which, in
the bitterness of her mood, she had forgotten. Somehow or other the idea
of quitting the country in his company seemed less repulsive to her than
at first. He was rich, and she would no longer be obliged to support
herself by a degrading occupation. After the first buzz of scandal and
excitement at her elopement the world would cease to prattle, or if it
did she would be in America and safe from its strictures. The King was
too poor in friends to refuse her recognition at his court. And, after
all, there need be no scandal. She would go to America in the role of a
professional beauty and Jawkins should be her manager. She would keep
him at a respectful distance and squeeze money out of him by dint of
promises. Once in America she would seek to fascinate the King. She was
weary of England. She had exhausted its resources, and it would be
amusing to visit the great ideal Republic, of whose magnificent
prosperity she had read until her mouth watered. Yes, let this matter of
a conspiracy be set at rest and Geoffrey lodged in prison, and she would
go. Her glorious eyes sparkled with interest. She would have done with
the platitudes and dreariness of private life. A grand career loomed up
before her across the ocean, where men lavished millions at the dictate
of imagination and put no limit upon enthusiasm. A fig for the dream of
an absorbing love, such as for an hour yesterday had flitted through her
brain. She would trample on its ashes after she had sated her vengeance.

In this mood she reached London. She took a four-wheel cab and told the
man to drive her to Buckingham Palace. Shrouding her features she sank
back from observation. Had she not preferred to screen her face she was
free to enjoy the emotions of a celebrity. Her photograph was in the
shop-window of every picture-dealer in town. Her sympathy with the
Royalists had, it is true, lessened her popularity for a time, but
supreme beauty is the one attribute which disarms prejudice and converts
ill-will.

London at this period, like the rest of England, showed marks of the
unhappy condition of its affairs. The thoroughfares, parks and public
buildings looked dirty and uncared for. An atmosphere of gloom overhung
Mayfair like a pall, as though the very fog had taken advantage of the
situation and was cl