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And, instead of speaking,
he will have nothing to do with her, and spends all his time--and,
I suppose, though I don't like to refer to it, all his money--in the
society of this unmentionable woman."
"Is she really so--so red as she is painted?" I asked.
"She isn't painted at all. That's where her artful and deceitful devilry
comes in----"
"I suppose Dale," said I, "declares her to be an angel of light and
purity?"
"An angel on horseback! Whoever heard of such a thing?"
"It's the name of a rather fiery savoury," said I.
"In a circus!" she continued.
"Well," said I, "the ring of a circus is not essentially one of the
circles in Dante's Inferno."
"Of course, my dear Simon," she said, with some impatience, "if you
defend him--"
I hastened to interrupt her. "I don't. I think he is an egregious young
idiot; but before taking action it's well to get a clear idea of the
facts. By the way, how do you know she's not painted?"
"I've seen her--seen her with my own eyes in Dale's company--at the
Savoy.


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