"
What had come to pass I could not have told; but we were eating
celestial viands, and my black butterflies having fled away, a swarm of
their gorgeous-tinted kindred were fluttering radiantly over Miss Esme
Falconer's plate and mine.
CHAPTER XI
IN THE RUE ST.-DOMINIQUE
Arriving in Paris at the highly inconvenient hour of 8 A.M., our
_rapide_ deposited its breakfastless and grumpy passengers on the
platform of the Gare de Lyon, washed its hands of us with the final
formality of collecting our tickets, and turned us forth into a gray,
foggy morning to seek the food and shelter adapted to our purses
and tastes. Every one, of course, emerged from seclusion only at the
ultimate moment; and, far from holding any lengthy conversation with
Miss Falconer, I was lucky to stumble upon her in the vestibule, help
her descend, find a taxi for her at the exit, and see her smile back at
me where I stood hatless as she drove away.
While I waited for my own cab I found myself beside Mr. John Van
Blarcom, who eyed me with mingled hostility and pity, as if I were
a cross between a lunatic and a thief.
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