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“And very delightful,” I could not help saying.

“You have no longer any hesitation as to your own safety?”

“I have trusted you and am content.”

“Would God it may always be so,” she said earnestly under her breath.

“I should never doubt you,” I returned with an emphasis. “But frankly I am completely mystified.”

She laughed, and it was like the sound of sweet sleigh bells.

“This is my house; I live here with an old relative, Madame Korvata. She is what the Spaniards would call my duenna, and the English, Mrs. Grundy. But I am like the Americans—you Americans,” she repeated with a glance; “in my love of personal freedom. I do as I like.”

“That I can believe. And M. Boreski?”

“Is M. Boreski—that is all to me. He is my cousin, very distantly my cousin, and he has his plans.”

She managed to suggest that these schemes were indifferent to her, and after a short pause added meaningly—

“We all have plans, haven’t we? Little moves of the pawns on the chess board, leading to some great combination—perhaps, that is.”