from
cocaine, and no man on earth could stand her for a month."

No man on earth! Laura leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes, for
she remembered the figure of Roger Adams as he moved away from her
through the sunlight in the crowded street. She saw his worn clothes,
his resolute walk, and the patience which belonged to the infinite
stillness in his face; and, for one breathless moment, she seemed to
feel the approach of the spirit which worked silently amid the humming
material things that made up life.

Gerty had risen and was fastening her white furs at her throat. "I must
go to Camille's," she said, "for she has just got in some new French
gowns and she has promised to give me the first look. Of course, one
can't really trust her," she added suspiciously, "and I shouldn't be in
the least surprised to find that she'd let Ada Lawley get ahead of me.
It is simply marvellous how that woman always manages to produce a
striking effect. She was at the opera last night in peacock blue when
every other woman was wearing that dead, lustreless white. Do you know I
sometimes wonder if I follow the fashion almost too closely."

"You could never look like any one else so it doesn't matter."

"And yet I spend two-thirds of my time trying to extinguish the little
individuality I possess," laughed Gerty, as she turned upon the
threshold. "I wear the same wave in my hair, the same colour in my gown,
the same length to my gloves. Oh, you fortunate dear, thank heaven you
have never kept a fashion!"

She went out with her softened merriment, while Laura, throwing herself
into the chair beside the window, looked down upon the carriage which
was waiting before the door. After a moment she saw Gerty come out and
cross the sidewalk, lifting her velvet skirt until she showed a
beautifully shod foot and a glimpse of black embroidered stocking. She
gave a few careless directions to the footman who arranged her rugs, and
then as the carriage door closed, she leaned out with her brilliant
smile and waved her hand to Laura at the window above. The winter
sunlight seemed to pass away with her when at last she turned the
corner.

With a sigh Laura's thoughts followed the carriage, envying the beauty
and the fashion of her friend for the first time in her life. A strange
fascination enveloped the world in which Gerty lived, and the old
familiar atmosphere through which she herself had moved so tranquilly
was troubled suddenly as if by a