She plucked still, but neither so
ruthlessly nor so omnivorously as of yore. She did not need; nor was she
so gregarious in her tastes. She could pick and choose, and wait--and
have some joy of _Him_ and take her time; be content not to pluck him
clean, and so retain his friendship even after he had been displaced.
With her now it was the man in high office or of high estate at whom she
aimed--and her aim was usually true. Neither with one of her tastes and
tendencies was monogamy apt to be attractive nor practiced--though at
times it subserved her expediency. At present, it was the Count de
M----, an English Cabinet Minister, and a Russian Grand Duke;--but
_discreetly_, oh, so discreetly that none ever dreamed of the others,
and the public never dreamed of them. To all outward appearances, she
dwelt in the odor of eminent respectability and sedate gaiety.
"Drive slowly through Rock Creek Park until I tell you to return," she
ordered the man when they had passed beyond the station; then withdrew
into a corner of the taxi, and busied herself with her thoughts.
It was almost two hours later that she gave him the Collingwood as a
destination.
At the Collingwood she dismissed the taxi, and without sending up her
name passed directly up to Mrs.
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