The City of Masks
The foyer curtains parted, revealing the plump, venerable figure of a butler who would have done credit to the lordliest house in all England.
OUT OF THE FOUR CORNERS OF THE EARTH
"AM I late?" she inquired, a trace of anxiety in her smiling blue eyes. She was clasping the hand of the taut little Marchioness, who looked up into the lovely face with the frankest admiration.
"I have only this instant finished dressing," said her hostess. "Moody informs me we're in for a blizzard. Is it so bad as all that?"
"What a perfectly heavenly frock!" cried Lady Jane Thorne, standing off to take in the effect.