herself in it and stood shimmering. A thrill pierced to Verrian's heart;
she was indeed wraithlike, so that he hated to have her call, "How will
that do?"

Mrs. Stager modestly referred the question to him by her silence.
"I will answer for its doing, if it does for the others as it's done for
me."

She laughed. "And you doubly knew what it was. Yes, I think it will
go." She took another pose, and then another. "What do you think of it,
Mrs. Stager?" she called to the woman standing respectfully abeyant at
one side.

"It's awful. I don't know but I'll be afraid to go to my room."

"Sit down, and I'll go to your room with you when I'm through. I won't
be long, now."

She tried different gauzes, which she had lying on one of the chairs, and
crowned herself with triumph in the applauses of her two spectators,
rejoicing with a glee that Verrian found childlike and winning.
"If they're all like you, it will be the greatest success!"

"They'll all be like me, and more," he said, "I'm really very severe."

"Are you a severe person?" she asked, coming forward to him. "Ought
people to be afraid of you?"

"Yes, people with bad consciences. I'm rattier afraid of myself for that
reason."