er you suggest."

"I propose that we have breakfast at Versailles. '"

"I must return to the theater," said Janina.

"They've not yet finished reading the play."

"They'll finish it without you. Come, let us go," urged Majkowska.

They walked slowly, for the rain had stopped entirely and the July
sun was drying the mud in the streets. The counselor wiggled about,
gazed into Janina's eyes and smiled significantly; he bowed to
acquaintances he met on the way and before the younger ones he
assumed the pose of a conquerer.

The "Versailles Restaurant" was empty. They seated themselves near
the balcony and the counselor ordered a very choice breakfast.

It was after three o'clock when they returned to the theater. The
rehearsal of the day's performance was in full swing. Cabinski was
about to grumble at them for coming late, but Majkowska gave him
such a crushing look that he merely frowned and walked away.

Her mother approached her with a letter. Majkowska read it,
immediately scribbled a few words in reply and handed them to the
old woman.

"Deliver this right away, mother," she said.

"Mela, but suppose I don't find him in?" asked her mother.

"Then wait, but do not give it to anyone else but him! Here's
something for your trouble, mother . . ." and tapping her throat
with her fingers after the custom of drinkers she gave her a forty
copeck piece.

The greenish eyes of the old woman gleamed with gratitude and she
hurried away with the message.

Janina looked for Glogowski, but he had already left, so she went
out into the hall to the counselor who had returned with them, for
she remembered that he had promised to tell her what he had read in
her palm.

"Mr. Counselor, you owe me something," she began, sitting down
beside him.

"Upon my word I don't remember that I owe you anything."

"You promised to tell me what you had read in my palm not so long
ago."

"Yes, but not here. Come, we had better go to the dressing-room so
that it won't attract anyone's attention."

They went to the dressing-room of the chorus.

The counselor spent quite a while examining both her hands very
minutely and finally said with some embarrassment: "Upon my word,
this is the first time that I see such strange hands!"

"Oh, please tell me everything!"

"I can't. . . . And I don't know whether it's true."

"It makes no difference whether it is true or not, you must tell me
by all means, my dear Counselor!" coaxed Janin