dwoman, she sang and rode and skated with the fury of a
witch. She was like a child, over-dressed, overjewelled, her black hair
fantastically arranged; always talking, always unhappy, a perfect type
of the young female egotist. She liked to use reckless expressions, to
curl herself up on a couch, in a room dimly lighted, and scented with
burning pastilles, and discuss her marriage, her age, her appearance,
her effect upon other women. Senta's was an almost pathetic and very
obvious desire to be considered daring, pantherine, seductive,
dangerous.

Jim, fancying he understood her perfectly, played into her hand. He
would not flirt with her, but he took her at her own valuation, and they
saw a good deal of each other. Senta confessed to him, read him love
letters, wrote him dashing, penitent little notes, and Jim scolded her
in a brotherly way, laughed at her, and sometimes delighted her by
forbidding her to do this or that, or by masterfully flinging some
cherished note or photograph of hers into the fire. He loved to hear her
scold her maid in Russian; it seemed to him very cunning when this
stately gipsy of a child took her seat in her box at the opera, or flung
herself into the carriage, later, all the more a madcap because of three
hours of playing the lady. He exchanged smiling looks over her little
dark head with her husband, when he dined at the Sturmers'; the good
professor was far more observing than was usually supposed; he knew more
of Jim's character, it is probable, than Jim did himself; he knew that
Senta was quite safe with the young American, and he liked him. But
Senta, who was quite unscrupulous, was slow to realize it. She found
this brotherly petting and scolding very well for a time, but months
went by, a whole year went by, and there was no change in their
relationship. Senta was only precocious, she was neither clever nor well
educated; she based her campaign on the trashy novels she read, and
deliberately set herself to shake Jim from his calm pleasure in her
society.

Then, suddenly, Jim was bored. Charm dropped from her like a rich,
enveloping cloak, and left only the pitiful little nude personality, a
bundle of childish egotisms and shallow pretences. Once he had been
proud to escort her everywhere, now her complacent assumption that he
should do so annoyed him; once he had laughed out heartily at her
constant interruption of the old professor, her naive contention that
she was never to be fo