CHAPTER IV

AN EVERLASTING HATE At four o'clock on the afternoon of the following day, an open barouche, drawn by a pair of magnificent bay horses, drove up to the door of the Hotel Continental. The manager, who was standing at the window of his private room, noticed two things; first, that there was a coronet upon the carriage door; and secondly, that the lady who was alighting carried in her hand a copy of the _Morning Post_ turned down, as though to mark a certain place in it. As she crossed the pavement he had a better vi…