"If one asked," she murmured to herself, "he would try to persuade one
that it was another victim."
NEMESIS AT WORK
Wingrave was present that evening at a reception given by the Prime
Minister to some distinguished foreign guests. He had scarcely
exchanged the usual courtesies with his host and hostess before Lady
Ruth, leaning over from a little group, whispered in his ear.
"Please take me away. I am bored. I want to talk to you."
He paused at once. Lady Ruth nodded to her friends.
"Mr. Wingrave is going to take me to hear Melba sing," she said. "See
you all again, I suppose, at Hereford House!"
They made slow progress through the crowded rooms. Once or twice
Wingrave fancied that his companion hung a little heavily upon his
arm. She showed no desire to talk. She even answered a remark of his
in a monosyllable. Only when they passed the Marchioness, on the arm
of one of the foreign guests in whose honor the reception was given,
she seemed to shiver a little, and her grasp upon his arm was
tightened. Once, in a block, she was forced to speak to some
acquaintances, and during those few seconds, Wingrave studied her
curiously. She was absolutely colorless, and her strange brilliant
eyes seemed to have lost all their fire. Her gown was black, and the
decorations of her hair were black except for a single diamond. There
was something almost spectral about her appearance. She walked
stiffly--for the moment she had lost the sinuous grace of movement
which had been one of her many fascinations.
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