und close about her head, was plentiful and glossy, and
her eyes had lost none of their dangerous brightness. Her figure was
coarser, and the white arm that gleamed through a muslin sleeve showed
an outline that a fastidious artist might wish to modify. The most
noticeable change was in her face. The cheeks owned no longer that
delicate purity which they once boasted, but had become thicker, while
here and there showed those faint red streaks--as though the rich blood
throbbed too painfully in the veins--which are the first signs of the
decay of "fine" women. With middle age and the fullness of figure
to which most women of her temperament are prone, had come also that
indescribable vulgarity of speech and manner which habitual absence of
moral restraint never fails to produce.

Maurice Frere spoke first; he was anxious to bring his visit to as
speedy a termination as possible. "What do you want of me?" he asked.

Sarah Purfoy laughed; a forced laugh, that sounded so unnatural, that
Frere turned to look at her. "I want you to do me a favour--a very great
favour; that is if it will not put you out of the way."

"What do you mean?" asked Frere roughly, pursing his lips with a sullen
air. "Favour! What do you call this?" striking the sofa on which he
sat. "Isn't this a favour? What do you call your precious house and all
that's in it? Isn't that a favour? What do you mean?"

To his utter astonishment the woman replied by shedding tears. For some
time he regarded her in silence, as if unwilling to be softened by such
shallow device, but eventually felt constrained to say something. "Have
you been drinking again?" he asked, "or what's the matter with you?
Tell me what it is you want, and have done with it. I don't know what
possessed me to come here at all."

Sarah sat upright, and dashed away her tears with one passionate hand.

"I am ill, can't you see, you fool!" said she. "The news has unnerved
me. If I have been drinking, what then? It's nothing to you, is it?"

"Oh, no," returned the other, "it's nothing to me. You are the principal
party concerned. If you choose to bloat yourself with brandy, do it by
all means."

"You don't pay for it, at any rate!" said she, with quickness of
retaliation which showed that this was not the only occasion on which
they had quarrelled.

"Come," said Frere, impatiently brutal, "get on. I can't stop here all
night."

She suddenly rose, and crossed to where he was standing.

"