She had thrown back her veil.
"And supposing you do not sell the 'Apache,' Mimo?
Your own money does not come in until Christmas; mine is all gone until January, and it is the cold winter approaching--and cold is not good for Mirko.

What then ?" Count Sykypri moved uneasily.

A tragic look grew in his handsome face; his face that was a mirror of all passing emotions; his face that had been able to express love and romance, devotion and tenderness, to wile a bird from off a tree or love from the heart of any woman.

And even though Zara Shulski knew of just how little value was anything he said or did yet his astonishing charm always softened her irritation toward his fecklessness.

So she repeated more gently: "What then ?" Mimo got up and flung out his arms in a dramatic way.
"It cannot be!" he said.