"
A wild fancy flashed through Lionel's brain; what if in these far
wanderings he were suddenly to encounter Nina? In vain--in vain; Nina
had become for him but a shadow, a ghost, with no voice to call to him
from any sphere.
"You would have me run away?--I don't see how I can do that," he said,
quietly; and then he abruptly changed the subject. "What did you think
of Lady Adela?"
"Well, to tell you the truth, I've been wondering whether she were at
the same time a smart and clever woman and an abject fool, or whether
she were simply smart and clever and thought me an abject fool. It must
be either one or the other. She played the literary _ingenue_ very
well--a little too openly, perhaps. I'm curious about her book--"
"Oh, don't judge of her by her book!" Lionel exclaimed. "That isn't
fair. Her book you may very likely consider foolish--not at all. I
suppose her head is a little bit turned by the things that Quirk and
those fellows have been writing about her; but that's only natural. And
if she showed her hand a little too freely in trying to interest you in
her novel, you must remember how eager she is to succeed. You'll do what
you can for her book--won't you, Maurice?"
Maurice Mangan, on his way home that night, had other things to think of
than Lady Adela's poor little book.
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