Hearts and Masks

The fact that I knew no one but Teddy added zest to the inspiration

which had seized me. For I determined to attend that dance, happen

what might. It would be vastly more entertaining than a possibly dull

theatrical performance. (It was!)

I called for a messenger and despatched him to the nearest drug store

for a pack of playing-cards; and while I waited for his return I

casually glanced at the other diners. At my table--one of those long

marble-topped affairs by the wall--there was an old man reading a

paper, and the handsomest girl I had set eyes upon in a month of moons.

Sometimes the word handsome seems an inferior adjective. She was

beautiful, and her half-lidded eyes told me that she was anywhere but

at Mouquin's. What a head of hair! Fine as a spider's web, and the

dazzling yellow of a wheat-field in a sun-shower! The irregularity of

her features made them all the more interesting. I was an artist in an

amateur way, and I mentally painted in that head against a Rubens

background. The return of the messenger brought me back to earth; for

I confess that my imagination had already leaped far into the future,

and this girl across the way was nebulously connected with it.

I took the pack of cards, ripped off the covering, tossed aside the

joker (though, really, I ought to have retained it!) and began

shuffling the shiny pasteboards. I dare say that those around me sat

up and took notice. It was by no means a common sight to see a man

gravely shuffling a pack of cards in a public restaurant. Nobody

interfered, doubtless because nobody knew exactly what to do in the

face of such an act, for which no adequate laws had been provided. A

waiter stood solemnly at the end of the table, scratching his chin

thoughtfully, wondering whether he should report this peculiarity of

constitution and susceptibility occasioning certain peculiarities of

effect from impress of extraneous influences (vide Webster),

synonymous with idiocrasy and known as idiosyncrasy. It was quite

possible that I was the first man to establish such a precedent in

Monsieur Mouquin's restaurant. Thus, I aroused only passive curiosity.

From the corner of my eye I observed the old gentleman opposite. He

was peering over the top of his paper, and I could see by the glitter

in his eye that he was a confirmed player of solitaire. The girl,

however, still appeared to be in a dreaming state. I have no doubt

every one who saw me thought that anarchy was abroad again, or that

Sherlock Holmes had entered into his third incarnation.