she said: "You certainly are funny, you Americans.
What in the world do you think men are? And since Giovanni is not even
married? However, to finish my story: it was not the Potensi with your
hero, but Favorita."

"Favorita--the dancer? Zoya, what do you mean?"

"Exactly what I tell you." Zoya inhaled her cigarette deeply and then
shrugged her shoulders. "When I saw Giovanni, I did not believe it
possible, that, even on so short notice, he would go off as you said,
ill and alone. So I went back along the station and waited. In a moment,
I saw Favorita come out on the platform and pass hurriedly down the
train, peering into every carriage. When she came to Giovanni's she flew
in like a bird. I waited a moment longer, and saw the guards lock the
door and the train pull out!"

Though Nina understood only vaguely what it all meant, she was human and
feminine enough to find a certain grim satisfaction in the thought that
Giovanni was no more to be trusted by the Potensi than by herself.

A short time afterward Zoya got up to go. "I shall see you to-morrow,
_cara_, yes? Will you lunch with me? And--I shall like very much if you
bring the American."

"Do you mean John?"

Zoya burst out laughing and then mimicked Nina's tone. "Is it indeed
possible that I could mean him?" She leaned over and kissed Nina
affectionately, then hurried to the door. On the threshold she paused to
call back, "One o'clock to-morrow, and be sure of John!" She smiled,
blew another kiss, and was gone.

Nina looked after her, her thoughts in strange turbulence. A moment
later she ran a comb through her hair, pinned up one or two tumbled
locks, washed her face, polished her nails, took out a clean
handkerchief; after which, she felt quite made over, and went in search
of her aunt.

If she imagined that the day's emotions were ended, she was destined to
be mistaken, for just as she went into the princess's room, a messenger
came with a note from the prince, saying that he had been arrested. It
was a very cheerful note and sounded rather as though he considered the
whole situation a joke. He begged his wife not to be alarmed. The police
had evidently mistaken him for Giovanni, so he had given no explanation
and refused even to tell his name. When Giovanni should have time to
reach the frontier, he would prove his identity and return home.

The princess's chief anxiety was therefore directed toward Giovanni, and
she dreaded lest Sandro's identity