Flora was not, among other things, frivolous or light-headed. There was an

earthquake hidden somewhere in this quiet docile man, and the innate

deviltry of the woman was always trying to dig down to it. But she never

deceived herself. Some day this earthquake would open up and devour her.

"I hate him. He snubbed me. I have told you that a thousand times."

He laughed and rattled the nuts in his hat.

"I want you to get that invitation."

"And if I do not?"

"I shall return immediately to Paris."

"And break your word to me?"

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"As easily as you break one of these nuts."

"And if I get the invitation?"

"I shall fulfil my promise to the letter. I will tell her as I promised."

"Out of love for me?"

"Out of love for you, and because the play no longer interests me."

"I wonder what new devilment is at work in your mind?"

"Michael, I do not want to get into a temper. It makes lines in my face. I

hate this place. It is dead. I want life, and color, and music. I want the

rest of September in Ostend."

"Paris, Capri, Taormina, Ostend; I marvel if ever you will be content to

stay in one place long enough for me to get my breath?"

"My dear, I am young. One of these days I shall be content to sit by your

great Russian fireplace and hold your hand."

"Hold it now."

She laughed and pressed his hand between her own. "Michael, look me

straight in the eyes." He did so willingly enough. "There is no other man.

And if you ever look at another woman ... Well!"

"I'll send over for the invitation." He stuffed his pockets with nuts and

put on his hat.

Flora then proceeded secretly to polish once more the Apple of Discord

which, a deal tarnished for lack of use, she had been compelled to bring

down from the promontory.

* * * * *

"Am I all right?" asked Harrigan.

Courtlandt nodded. "You look like a soldier in mufti, and more than that,

like the gentleman that you naturally are," quite sincerely.

The ex-gladiator blushed. "This is the reception-room. There's the

ballroom right out there. The smoking-room is on the other side. Now, how

in the old Harry am I going to get across without killing some one?"

Courtlandt resisted the desire to laugh. "Supposing you let me pilot you

over?"




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