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“If I had wished you to come I should have asked you,” she replied, repressing her ill-humour. “Your visit is ill-timed.”

I watched her very closely and detected something very much akin to repugnance in her glance.

“Possibly;” he laughed shortly. “But as I am here, introduce me.”

There was a moment’s indecision before she answered.

“This gentleman is an American, and does not speak Russian.”

“American, is he? Well, I suppose I have a right to know the friends of my——”

This time she broke in quickly and interrupted him.

“I have already told you your visit is unwelcome.”

“I heard you,” he returned so rudely that I could have kicked him. “What language does he speak?”

“He understands Russian and speaks French.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I speak French easily enough;” the second part of the sentence was in French. “Good-evening, monsieur,” he said to me, “I am glad to meet you. Any friends of my——”

“M. Denver, this is M. Paul Drexel.”

He started at this second interruption, and looked at her half angrily.