"Can you tell us where Mr. Addison is likely to find happiness?" he said.
"Can you tell us, lady of the feathers?"
"No. He can tell himself. That's all," she said. "Let him find it
himself."
"Each for himself and God for us all, eh?"
"I don't know about God," she said, looking towards the doctor as if for
assistance.
"Each for another and God for us all is perhaps a better motto," the
doctor interposed.
"Ah, Charity!"
Valentine took out his watch and looked at it.
"Charity! Midnight is approaching, and, of course, this is Charity's
benefit-night by common consent. Thank you, doctor, for the hint. Did
the dying old year prompt you with its husky voice full of the wind and
of the snow?"
"Possibly."
"Let us have some more coffee. Julian, give me Miss Bright's cup. You
shall have your absinthe presently. Wade has not forgotten it."
"Absinthe?" said the doctor.
"Julian drinks it every night. He has got tired of whiskey. Doctor, your
cup too."
"We shall not sleep a wink to-night."
"All the better. Why should not we see the dawn in, as we did once
before? You recollect."
"Ah, Val! on the night of your trance."
"Yes. You were not here then, lady of the feathers."
He spoke with a light mockery.
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