He professed love; he said that he had wronged his San Reve.

His San Reve was a goddess, a flower, a star! Would she make her Storri desolate ?--her Storri who would die for love of her! The San Reve became sensibly composed; her falcon brow relaxed, her spirit took on a tranquil frame, her anger was cooled by the cooing contrition of Storri.

The San Reve permitted herself to be soothed.
"Let us go no more in that direction," said the San Reve.

"Such tauntings are but a childish barter of words." The San Reve delivered this sentiment in a serene, high way that brought her honor.

Then she lighted a cigarette and blew peaceful rings.