"Yes; his expression is reminiscent of a boy's definition of a vacuum,--a large space with nothing in it. Who is he?"
"And I thought you not unknown! He is the husband of a brilliant woman, Mrs. Ames, who has written a novel."
"Decidedly so; it stands the test of being intoxicating and leaving a bad taste in the mouth,--like dry champagne."
"Which is not made for women."
"You mean school-girls. There she is,--that wisp of a creature listening so eagerly to that elegant youth of the terrier breed. No wonder he interests her; he is as full of information in piquant personal history as a family lawyer, and his knowledge is as much public property as a social city directory."
"You have studied him to advantage. Are you sure you have not stolen a leaf from him?"
"Dr. Kemp!" she exclaimed in pouting reproach, "do I appear as promiscuous as that? You may call me a 'blue book,' but spare my snobbery the opprobrious epithet of 'directory.' There g