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his morning, for an instant, I was afraid!" "Try and keep your thoughts away from it," Mr. Waddington advised. "Let me show you these new prints. By the bye, where is your wonderful little boy?" "Gone--back to his mother!" Burton answered grimly. "Didn't you hear us mention him? I left him in my rooms one night and when I came back the whole place was in disorder. He was in a filthy state and sobbing for his home." "My poor fellow!" Mr. Waddington murmured. "Come, I will take you with me to lunch. We can spend the afternoon in my library. I have some new treasures to show you. We will lose ourselves. For a short time, at least, you shall forget." CHAPTER XXVI THE END OF A WONDERFUL WORLD Mr. Waddington turned his head away quickly and glanced half guiltily towards his companion. To his amazement, Burton had been gazing in the same direction. Their eyes met. Burton coughed. "A remarkably fine woman, that," Mr. Waddington declared. Burton looked at him in astonishment. "My dear Mr. Waddington!" he exclaimed. "You cannot really think so!" They both turned their heads once more. The woman in question was standing upon the doorstep of a milliner's shop, waiting for a taxicab. In appearance she was certainly somewhat striking, but her hair was flagrantly dyed, her eyebrows darkened, her costume daring, her type obvious. "A very fine woman indeed, I call her," Mr. Waddington repeated. "Shouldn't mind taking her to lunch. Good mind to ask her." Burton hesitated for a moment. Then a curious change came into his own face. "She is rather fetching," he admitted. The woman suddenly smiled. Mr. Waddington pulled himself together. "It serves us right," he said, a little severely, and hastening his companion on. "I was looking at her only as a curiosity." Burton glanced behind and move on reluctantly. "I call her jolly good-looking," he declared. Mr. Waddington pretended not to hear. They turned into Jermyn Street. "There are some vases here, at this small shop round the corner, which I want you particularly to notice, Burton," he continued. "They are perfect models of old Etruscan ware. Did you ever see a more beautiful curve? Isn't it a dream? One could look at a curve like that and it has something the same effect upon one as a line of poetry or a single exquisite thought." Burton glanced into the window and looked back again over his shoulder. The lady, however, had disappeared.
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