I made out the glorious beard of the Duc de Mersch, on his arm was an old lady to whom he seemed to pay deferential attention.

His head was bent on one side; he was smiling frankly.

A little behind them, on the stairway, there was a space.

Perhaps I was mistaken; perhaps there was no space--I don't know.

I was only conscious of a figure, an indescribably clear-cut woman's figure, gliding down the way.