have blamed Kennedy for giving him much more encouragement than he
had given.

Kennedy was not through yet, and now turned quickly again to the
cosmetic arcadia which had been so rudely stirred by the tragedy.

"Who is this girl Agnes who discovered Miss Blaisdell?" he shot
out at the Millefleurs.

The beauty-doctor was now really painful in his excitement. Like
his establishment, even his feelings were artificial.

"Agnes?" he repeated. "Why, she was one of Madame's best hair-
dressers. See--my dear--show the gentlemen the book of
engagements."

It was a large book full of girls' names, each an expert in curls,
puffs, "reinforcements," hygienic rolls, transformators, and the
numberless other things that made the fearful and wonderful hair-
dresses of the day. Agnes's dates were full, for a day ahead.

Kennedy ran his eye over the list of patrons. "Mrs. Burke Collins,
3:30," he read. "Was she a patron, too?"

"Oh, yes," answered Madame. "She used to come here three times a
week. It was not vanity. We all knew her, and we all liked her."

Instantly I could read between the lines, and I felt that I had
been too charitable to Burke Collins. Here was the wife slaving to
secure that beauty which would win back the man with whom she had