His head was marble under the
influence of wine and of yet stronger compounds; but the instant I met
his eyes, I guessed from their unusual brilliancy, and from the slight
additional flush on his brown cheeks, that the wassail had been deep.
He paused for a moment to say a word or two to me, and I noticed that
the first person whom his glance lighted on was, not his betrothed, but
Flora Bellasys. The latter was resting after her first polka, with her
usual staff of admirers round her. Guy watched the circle paying their
homage, and I heard him mutter to himself the formula of the Roman
arena--_Morituri te salutant_. Then he passed on; and, after retaining
Constance for her first disengaged turn, he began talking to a lady,
whom I have not noticed yet, but who merits to be sketched hastily.
Rose Thornton was not clever. She was no longer in her first youth, and
had never been pretty or very attractive. Her figure was neat, and her
face had a sort of nervous deprecating expression, that made you look at
it a second time. Nevertheless, she was always deeply engaged, and
generally to the best goers in the room. She was a good performer
herself, but this would not account for it; ninety-nine girls out of
every hundred are that, after two seasons' practice.
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