ghtest doubt of success. It was enough for him to
see the widow's smile, her passionate eyes, and the little tricks of
malicious coquetry with which she responded to his gallant advances.
"Forward, sea-wolf!"... He took her hand while she was speaking of the
beauty of the solitary sea, and the hand yielded without protest to his
caressing fingers. The doctor was far away and, sighing hypocritically,
he encircled Freya's waist with his other arm while he inclined his
head upon her open throat as though he were going to kiss her pearls.

In spite of his strength, he found himself energetically repulsed and
saw Freya freed from his arms, two steps away, looking upon him with
hostile eyes that he had not noticed before.

"None of your child's play, Captain!... It is useless with me.... You
are just wasting time."

And she said no more. Her stiffness and her silence during the rest of
the walk made the sailor understand the enormity of his mistake. In
vain he tried to keep beside the widow. She always maneuvered that the
doctor should come between the two.

Upon returning to the station they took refuge from the heat in a
little waiting room with dusty velvet divans. In order to beguile the
time while waiting for the train, Freya took from her handbag a gold
cigarette-case and the light smoke of Egyptian tobacco charged with
opium whirled among the shafts of sunlight from the partly-opened
windows.

Ferragut, who had gone out in order to ascertain the exact hour of the
arrival of the train, on returning stopped near the door, amazed at the
animation with which the two ladies were speaking in a new language.
Recollections of Hamburg and Bremen came surging up in his memory. His
companions were talking German with the ease of a familiar idiom. At
sight of the sailor, they instantly continued their conversation in
English.

Wishing to take part in the dialogue, he asked Freya how many languages
she spoke.

"Very few,--no more than eight. The doctor, perhaps, knows twenty. She
knows the languages of people who passed away many centuries ago."

And the young woman said this with gravity, without looking at him, as
though she had lost forever that smile of a light woman which had so
deceived Ferragut.

In the train she became more like a human being, even losing her
offended manner. They were soon going to separate. The doctor grew less
and less approachable as the cars rolled towards Salerno. It was the
chilliness tha