She fell into another slumber, one which was more like a blackout. And all to satisfy a succession of rapacious lightskirts. I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again. Sure, I lose one occasionally—if he stays in New York. Melusine feigned a displeased frown. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. He will be sorry when he knows who I am,’ decided Melusine with satisfaction. She was nestled under his bedspread.
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