law of things as they are when contrasted with things as they might
be, if Theydon both failed to attach any importance to that chance
meeting and proceeded forthwith to think of something else.

He did not forget it, of course. His artist's eyes had been far too
interested in a certain rare quality of delicate femininity in the
girl's face and figure, and his ear too quick to appreciate the music
of her cultured voice, that he should not be able to recall such
pleasant memories later. Indeed, during those fleeting moments on the
threshold of the theater, he had garnered quite a number of minor
impressions, not only of the girl, but of her father.

In some respects they were singularly alike. Thus, each had the same
proud, self-reliant carriage, the same large, brilliant eyes, serene
brow and firm mouth, the same repose of manner, the same clear,
incisive enunciation. Neither could move in any company, however
eclectic, without evoking comment.

They held in common that air of refinement and good breeding which is,
or should be, the best-marked attribute of an aristocracy. It was
impossible to imagine either in rags, but, given such a
transformation, each would be notable because of the amazing
difference that would exist between garb and mien.

It must not be imagined that Theydon indulged in this close analysis
of the physical characteristics of two complete strangers while his
cab was wheeling into the scurry of traffic in Cranbourn Street.
Rather did he essay a third time to light the cigarette which he still
held between his lips. And yet a third time was his intent balked.