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 she does not know. I admit her chatter interests me: one feels a little bit in the swim of things after a 'lesson' at Emmy's. But afterwards I have a curious sick feeling, when I think of her slimy besmirching of everybody; I feel dirty mentally and physically, and long for a bath inside and out.

While I was playing with her two dear little girls I heard Emmy—who was chattering to some like-minded friends—mention Alfred Mörch's name. I won't deny I grew curious, and that my thoughts wandered away from the game. With one ear I listened to the whispered confidences of the gossips, who put their heads together and looked very impressed and indignantly delighted.

What I caught of the conversation was the following : Alfred Mörch had seduced a young girl, who had since gone mad, and whose brother had sworn to kill him. The story was quite true, for my cousin had heard it from a lady, whose charwoman was the aunt of the servant of the young girl's parents. But this was not all. Mr. Mörch had many other crimes on his conscience. 'No woman can resist him,' said Emmy with an expression of gloating interest in her face. At this point of the conversation I asked, 'What does it mean that no woman can resist this Mr. Mörch? What is this mysterious power he possesses?'

'Yes, my dear girl, you better take care,' answered Emmy. 'I'll tell you what they say about Alfred Mörch. He hypnotises the women he is interested in by looking very intently at them with his shiny