Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. The idea of Ruth as a talisman against misfortune—which he now recognized as a sick man's idea— faded as his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself. She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge chatelaine. “Listen! There was a Meysey Hill in Paris, an American railway millionaire. Sebastian was gone and another doctor came to bleed her, to rid her of the black humors that were causing the plague.
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