wished to hide herself, she must be more prudent; but for this time it was
too late. There was Theodora Dene, of all people, waiting to meet her at
the top of the steps!

"Oh, bother!" Angela had just time to whisper, before she found herself
shaking hands with a tall, red-haired, hatless girl in a white dress. Theo
Dene never wore a hat unless it were absolutely necessary, for her hair
was her great attraction. It was splendid in the sun, as she came out of
the shade to stand in the blaze of light, shaking Angela's hand and
sending a long-lashed glance to Nick. She never looked at a woman if there
were a man worth looking at within eye-shot. But she had no hypocrisy
about this. She did not pretend to be a friend of women, though she was
nice to them if they did not interfere with her and there was nothing
better to do. She was twenty-eight, and confessed to twenty-four. She
danced as well as a professional, sang French songs in what she called a
"twilight voice," dressed better than most married women, did daring
things, and had written two books which shocked Puritans. Some of her own
experiences had been worked into her novels, which made them read
realistically; and clergymen in England and America had preached against
them; so, of course, they were a great success and sold enormously. Miss
Dene herself was also a great success. She went where she liked, alone if
she liked, and during a visit to Rome she had lured desirable men from
ladies who were engaged in flirting with them. Angela, who was not
flirting with any one, had been amused by the strange girl, but now she
would have preferred a chance encounter with almost anybody else.

"Please call me Mrs. May," she whispered, as they shook hands. "I don't
want to be known by the other name."

The tall young woman in white took in the situation, or a view of it, and