Original (English)

CHAPTER I Preston Cheney turned as he ran down the steps of a handsome house on “The Boulevard,” waving a second adieu to a young woman framed between the lace curtains of the window.  Then he hurried down the street and out of view.  The young woman watched him with a gleam of satisfaction in her pale blue eyes.  A fine-looking young fellow, whose Roman nose and strong jaw belied the softly curved mouth with its sensitive darts at the corners; it was strange that something warmer than