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“M. Boreski is coming here?” I asked.

“You are already impatient to go.”

The retort came quickly with just an accent of reproach and disappointment.

“On the contrary I am more than content to stay.”

She gave me a sharp half-quizzical glance, with a smile in it, quickly suppressed save in her eyes.

“I wonder can that be true? What kind of test it would stand?”

“Any test you could choose.”

“We shall see. I may remind you of that;” half challenge half banter this was. “But my concerns are nothing to you.”

“Then let us make them something.” Our eyes met as I said this with an earnestness that was personal if not Imperial, and she met my gaze openly and steadily. Hers were dangerous eyes for any man to look into, and especially for one who thought of her as I did.

“I wonder what you mean by that? What I ought to read behind your look and eager offer?”

“Nothing but goodwill to you. Believe that.”

“You tempt me, monsieur—American,” and she fell back in her chair with a half sigh and sat thinking intently. Presently she shook her head. “No, not yet, not yet. You know nothing of me.”