Ye gods! he had never given Freda credit! Wasn't she
magnificent!
"I'll thank you for my mask, Mrs. McFee."
That lady, for the nonce speechless, turned over the article in question.
"Good-night, Miss Moloof." Mrs. Eppingwell was royal even in defeat.
Freda reciprocated, though barely downing the impulse to clasp the
other's knees and beg forgiveness,--no, not forgiveness, but something,
she knew not what, but which she none the less greatly desired.
The man was for her taking his arm; but she had made her kill in the
midst of the pack, and that which led kings to drag their vanquished at
the chariot-tail, led her toward the door alone, Floyd Vanderlip close at
heel and striving to re-establish his mental equilibrium.
V
It was bitter cold. As the trail wound, a quarter of a mile brought them
to the dancer's cabin, by which time her moist breath had coated her face
frostily, while his had massed his heavy mustache till conversation was
painful. By the greenish light of the aurora borealis, the quicksilver
showed itself frozen hard in the bulb of the thermometer which hung
outside the door.
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