There was, thus far, no suggestion of impropriety between them, now or later. They dined long, deliberately and well. Miss Delaware drank no wine, Rawn himself only abstemiously. The keenest delight of the evening felt by either came not of food or drink. The intoxication of the city's night life fell upon them, entered their souls. Distant and low-voiced musical instruments set the air athrob with sensuous melody. Flowers bloomed, jewels blazed, soft voices rose, wine added its stimulus here and there. Cut beyond this luxury, this sensuousness, beyond the novelty of it, beyond the vague impulses of a common humanity which runs through all the world, they felt the last and subtle delight which comes with an admitted assuredness of self--the consciousness of power and ability to prevail, the certainty of knowing all the path, all the full orbit of the great. XIII As they sat thus calmly, apparently, as most might have said, old habitués of scenes like this, apparently persons of wealth and distinction, Rawn felt once more bent upon him the look of a passer-by. There approached the table where they sat the couple he had seen earlier that evening, a stately and beautiful young woman, whose features now were a trifle more animated, whose eyes were brighter; and with her the same dyspeptic director, sallow, with pointed dark beard. His face flushed still more as he saw John Rawn and his companion. He turned an admiring gaze upon the latter, whom of course he did not recognize. Rawn caught the gaze. It was the keenest delight of his evening that he could smile back, showing his own teeth also. "By Jove!" muttered the ex-director to himself. "I beg pardon!" haughtily commented his own fair companion, who had caught his gaze aside. "You know that person? Who is she?" "I don't know, my dear--I'm just trying to think. Her face--it looks like the goddess on some stock certificate I've seen--" "Indeed?" "Yes, goddess with a handful of lightning bolts." "Indeed?" "Yes. We might call her the 'Lady of the Lightnings' to-night. She surely does shine like the bright and morning star, the way she's illuminated--eh, what?" "Indeed?" "Well, hang it all! Yes. She's a looker, too!" "Indeed?" "Yes, _indeed_! And they both look like ready money." The ex-director gave a little laugh. "You don't know them?" asked his companion, more placated as they readied the corridor, where Virginia Delaware was at last out of sight. "No, I don't know her--never saw her before, unless, as I said, in an engraving. Don't worry--I haven't got any of the engravings--now." "Who is he?" "Fellow by name of Rawn, from Chicago." "Oh!" CHAPTER VII JOHN RAWN, PROMINENT CITIZEN I