between them now, and never could be.

"Come now," thus he reasoned with himself. "Come now, let us be
reasonable." He had pulled her out of a scuffle and she had been
grateful; she was pretty, he had kissed her. She was grateful, and had
knifed a man who meant him mischief--and she had left him a crucifix.

Gratitude again. What had her gipsy skin and red kerchief to do with
her heart and conscience? "Beware, my son, of the pathetic fallacy,"
he told himself, and as he turned into the carrera San Geronimo, beheld
Manuela robed in white pass along the street.

He knew her immediately, though her face had but flashed upon him, and
there was not a stitch upon her to remind him of the ragged creature of
the plain. A white mantilla covered her hair, a white gown hid her to
the ankles. He had a glimpse of a white stocking, and remarked her
high-heeled white slippers. Startling transformation! But she walked
like a free-moving creature of the open, and breasted the hot night as
if she had been speeding through a woodland way. That was Manuela, who
had lulled a man to save him.

After a moment or so of hesitation he followed her, keeping his
distance. She walked steadily up the _carrera_, looking neither to
right nor to left. Many remarked her, some tried to stop her. A
soldier followed her pertinaciously, till presently she turned upon him
in splendid rage and bade him be off.

Manvers praised her for that, and, quickening, gained upon her. She
turned up a narrow street on the right. It was empty. Manvers,
gaining rapidly, drew up level. They were now walking abreast, with
only the street-way between them; but she kept a rigid profile to
him--as severe, as proud and fine as the Arethusa's on a coin of
Syracuse. The resemblance was striking; straight nose, short lip,
rounded chin; the strong throat; unwinking eyes looking straight before
her; and adding to these beauties of contour her splendid colouring,
and carriage of a young goddess, it is not too much to say that Manvers
was dazzled.

It is true; he was confounded by the excess of her beauty and by his
knowledge of her condition. His experiences of life and cities could
give him no parallel; but they could and did give him a dangerous sense
of power. This glowing, salient creature was for him, if he would.
One word, and she was at his feet.

For a moment, as he walked nearly abreast of her, he was ready to throw
everything that was natural to