"Then it belongs to another woman ?" "Yes, it is promised to another." "Then this is to be the last time we meet ?" "I do not doubt it." "Are you not sorry ?" "Naturally, Madam!" She sighed, laughing as she did so.

Yet I could not evade seeing the curious color on her cheek, the rise and fall of the laces over her bosom.

Utterly self-possessed, satisfied with life as it had come to her, without illusion as to life, absorbed in the great game of living and adventuring--so I should have described her.

Then why should her heart beat one stroke the faster now?
I dismissed that question, and rebuked my eyes, which I found continually turning toward her.
She motioned to a little table near by.

"Put the slipper there," she said.