play; it seemed cowardly to hurt a woman. But after
all, his duty was to his benefactors, and if she was the traitress
they alleged she deserved no mercy.

Nello bowed, but made no immediate response. He was on the point of
moving away, when she laid a detaining hand upon his arm.

"Stay, I beseech you! Why are you so cold? I have sung better than
ever to-night, and yet you offer me no word of congratulation. Many a
time, when I have sung badly, you have been profuse of your praises,
and I thought we were such good friends!"

Nello saw his opportunity at once. "I used to think, Madame, that we
were very good friends."

"And has anything happened to alter your previous opinion?" inquired
Madame Quero in a faltering voice.

Again the young Italian made a movement to pass on, and again the
impetuous woman detained him.

"If you please, we will not leave it where it is, with studied
coldness on your part. Please tell me how I have offended you."

Nello spoke with exaggerated courtesy. "Madame, I am too humble to
have the right to be offended. I, the mere Director of an Opera, you,
one of the idols of Europe."

The _prima donna_ stamped an impatient foot. "Signor Corsini, you are
trying my patience unduly. It is easy to see that you have some
fancied grievance. Will you be good enough to explain what it is, or
at any rate the nature of it?"

Corsini looked at her steadily. "Madame, you have been good enough to
call me your friend. If that is the case, why have I not been invited
to those little private suppers at your villa? So many go, that one
more would not have made a serious addition."

Her face went as white as death. "Who has told you such a falsehood?"
she stammered.

Nello never took his eyes off her. The white face, the stammering
tongue, proved that Golitzine was right. She had secret parties at her
villa, and she was dismayed to find that anybody had heard of them.

"A friend of mine, whose name I must not reveal, Madame."

Without another word Madame Quero went to her dressing-room. From
there she despatched a hasty note to Prince Zouroff.

CHAPTER XIII

La Belle Quero and the Prince Zouroff were sitting together in the
boudoir of the small villa on the outskirts of St. Petersburg.

They were both smoking cigarettes. Madame Quero looked anxious and
perturbed, Zouroff surly and annoyed.

"Inez, you are very unreasonable. Why have you dragged me here at this
time of night? If your no