"You would have been her henchman,—is that right, Nicholas?—or her varlet," says Dorothy, with conviction, "And you would have had to stain your skin, and go round with a cross-bow, and with your mouth widened from ear to ear to give you the correct look. All æsthetic people have wide mouths, have they not, Nicholas?",
"Shall I write to her?" asks Mona, gently. "Say what you wish done.",
"No," with a little flickering smile, that has pain and sorrow in it; "for the simple reason that I shall never marry.".
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