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weary, and the Victoria Embankment Gardens smiled an invitation
to repose. I struck the shady path beneath the terrace of the
National Liberal Club, and sat myself down on a comfortable
bench. The only other occupant was a female in black. As I take
no interest in females in black, I disregarded her presence, and
gave myself up to the contemplation, of the trim lawns and
flowerbeds, the green trees masking the unsightly Surrey side of
the river, and the back of the statue of Sir Bartle Frere. A
continued survey of the last not making for edification (a statue
that turns its back on you being one of the dullest objects made
by man), I took from my pocket a brown leathercovered volume
which I had fished out of a penny box: _Suite de l'Histoire du
Gouvernement de Venise ou L'Histoire des Uscoques, par le Sieur
Houssaie, Amsterdam, MDCCV._ A whole complete scholarly history
of a forgotten people for a penny. The Uscoques were originally
Dalmatians who settled at Segna on the Adriatic and became the
most pestiferous colony of pirates and desperadoes of sixteenth
century Europe. I opened the yellowstained pages and savoured
their acrid musty smell. How much learning, thought I, bought
with the heart'sblood, how many million hours of fierce
intellectual struggle appeal to mankind nowadays but as an odour,
an odour of decay, in the nostrils of here and there a casual
student. I thought this, and my eye caught, repeated many times,
the name of the Frangipani, once lords of Segna. As men, their
achievements are wiped out of commonly remembered history; but
their name is distilled into a sensuous perfume which perchance
may be found in the penny scent fountains of today. I was
smiling over this quaint olfactory coincidence, and wondering
whether any human being alive at that moment had ever read the
Sieur Houssaie's book, when a tug at my arm, such as a neglected
terrier gives with his paw, brought me back to the workaday
world. I turned sharply and met a pair of melting, brown,
piteous, imploring dog's eyes, belonging not to a terrier, but to
the disregarded female in black.
Will you please, sir, to tell me what I must do.
I stared. She was not in the least like what my halfconscious
glance at the female in black had taken her to be. She was quite
young, remarkably good looking. Even at the first instant I was
struck by her eyes and the mass of bronze hair and the twitching
of a childish mouth. But she had an untidy, touzled, raffish
appearance, due to I knew not what investiture of disrepute. Her

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