Red Masquerade

he became acquain

on those who for this reason or that engaged her attention, without givin

could not often or for long at a time succeed in reading a book held open in one's lap, below the level of the cashier's desk, Mama Thérèse was too

ing eyes and slitted by apertures which automatically and alternately gaped to receive gobbets of food and goblets of drink and closed to gulp them down. A man needed to be remarkable for something in

rance at their accustomed hours, about whom her idle but able imagination wove wonderful fantasies, enduing them with histories

remembered some of the former. The brown-eyed youngster with the sentimental expression and the funny little moustache, for example, lu

ng) the slender young man with the soulful eyes and the insignificant moustache had commended

its remoteness, promising freedom from embarrassing encounters save through unlikely mischance, would bring it the custom of a clandestine couple from the West End, who would for a time make it an almost daily rendezvous, meetin

though it couldn't complain for lack of patronage, and in fact prospered exceedingl

s a "fancy (or swell) dresser"; it was simply that he was always irreproachably turned out, whatever the form of dress he thought appropriate to the time of day; and that his wardrobe was so complete and varied that he seldom appeared twice in the same suit of clothes--except, of course, after nightfa

orus of the newest revue or proper matron from Bayswater; keen adventurer from Fleet Street or solid merchant from the City, his attitude was much the same: easy, impersonal, unaffected, courteous, detached. He was as apt as not (going on his facial expression) to be mooning about Sofia when his guest was gesticulating wildly and uttering th

int of rudeness, and it always seemed to make him hugely uncomfortable if she appeared in the least aware of his adoration; and Mama Thérèse and Papa Dupont never even noticed him

d do with a little more first-hand experien

ry agreeable frame of mind to be

side from his admiration, happened on an afternoon in June, a warm day for England, when a tempe

the room from the caisse, exchanged pleasantries with the waiter who served him a picon, and used

nadvertence. One would have thought his place was in the clubs of Piccadilly if not (at that particular hour) at a tea table on the river terrace of the Houses of Parli

on, but the impression they conveyed was of a singular strength together with as rare a fineness of spirit. A mobile and expressive face, stamped with a history of strange ordeals; but this must not be interpreted as meaning that it was haggard or prematurely

would never forget those eyes. And as she saw them then, she never did f

e first time Sofia had heard it), sat down on the wall-sea

nted but which sounded like none she had ever heard spoken. This seemed the more annoying because there were few people in the restaurant to drown with chatter the sound of those two voices and because, in spite of their guarded tones, their table was one so situated that some freak of acoustics carried every syllable uttered at it, even though whispered, to the quic

Karslake had never before

ought it might possibly be Russian, because it sounded rather like Russian print looks; it might just as well have been Arabic or Choctaw, for all Sofia could say to the contrary.

to study him mo

riously--though its upshot was apparently quite acceptable to both--and terminated ab

en that's

der man dissen

is settled; it is

laugh that to Sofia sounded empty, "

one eyebrow and

think

so!" But his companion wasn't listening or ch

use we find the play entertaining in spite of ourselves. And even when we think of Death ... there's the possibility that on the other side

quisitively wat

ence and admiration in his voice. "By all

ways at the time, of course. But when I look back, especially at my

moment, glancing inter

kes on

t do

afé, my

eginnings,

royon's, at this hour especially, w

oyo

ar--it burned down one night, cremating many memories. While it stood I ha

you hate

I suffere

and pimply creature in a waiter's jacket and apron, who was shamb

cullion, valet-de-chambre, butt and scapegoat-in-general to the establishment,

tonishment. "Whoever would have thou

alive and never would be better while I stayed o

me, sir," Karslak

looked at his watch--"I've got just time enough to

Karslake suggested, s

uld be as well

tick, and started out toward the door, moving leisurely, still lo

s abolished utterly. He

t the girl had quite forgotten herself and her professional pose of blank neutrali

t hint of impulse hindered by uncertainty. And in that moment the girl was conscious of a singular sensation of breathlessness, as if something impended whose issue might change all the courses of her life. A feeling quite insane and un

icable disappointment,

at her, but at Karslake, as if of half a mind to return

er cam