Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. I love him as a brother. . I am. She seemed to have recovered herself as he returned, but rose as if she would go back to the saloon. She loved to walk through the gardens, graced with columns that loomed overhead. She was in ill trim for walking, but somehow or other she made her way as far as the Champs Elysées, and sank down upon an empty seat.
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