But that was so wherever they went that night; and, in a sense, they
went everywhere. In no city in the world is the doctrine of
go-as-you-please-but-mind-your-own-business more studiously inculcated
by example than in Paris, especially in its hours of relaxation.
Lanyard had not been so long an exile as to have forgotten his way
about entirely, and with what was new since his time Mademoiselle
Reneaux was thoroughly acquainted. And if he felt himself rather a
ghost revisiting glimpses of a forgotten moon, if all the odalisques
were new to his vision and all the sultans strange, if never an eye
that scanned his face turned back for a second look in uncertain
reminiscence, he had to console him the company of a young woman whom
everybody seemed to know and admire and like. In none of the resorts
they visited did she fail to greet or be hailed by a handful of
acquaintances. Yet they were generously let alone.
As to that, Lanyard could not complain. The truth was that, despite the
dark thread of sober purpose which ran through those tolerably purple
hours, he was being excellently entertained.
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