It was dark, save for the light of a brazier of coals.

A short distance away, near the outer gate, glowed a star of red light, and the fragrance of a strong cigar came over.
"Say, looking for me ?" said a voice, and a figure moved towards David.
"Yours to command, pasha, yours to command." Lacey from Chicago held out his hand.
"Thee is welcome, friend," said David.
"She's ready, I suppose.

Wonderful person, that.

Stands on her own feet every time.

She don't seem as though she came of the same stock as me, does she ?" "I will bring her if thee will wait, friend." "I'm waiting." Lacey drew back to the gateway again and leaned against the wall, his cigar blazing in the dusk.
A moment later David appeared in the garden again, with the slim, graceful figure of the girl who stood "upon her own feet." David drew her aside for a moment.