as a substitute? He had money, he was rather handsome and distinguished, at least other women had been eager to tell him so, and he had an authentic title, something most foreign ladies in Paris rated quite highly.
But then she had married this Drake, a pauper, a nobody. A mere girlish whim, he had always believed. Drake had happened to be with her at a time her spirits were at a low ebb at the thought of going back to marry an ancient husband. She had been carried away by a sweep of emotions to do a foolish thing. Dudley had just been fortunate in being present to bring off the prize, that was all. He himself could have achieved the same result had he been there at the Garde du Nord alone with her, Rao-Singh was sure. Moreover, he was certain she had repented of her bargain long since. She had rebuked Dudley for the scene he made at the Fête when he, Rao-Singh, had kissed her and she had not seemed to mind his impetuous and hardly impersonal action very much. She had been leading a life out here on Long Island that her husband obviously didn't approve, flaunting Dudley at every turn. And she did not dare tell her husband of her present disastrous financial situation, and Dudley could not help her if she did.
Rao-Singh had consciously, and Lucy Hodge
