big except in a
fairy story. The tie was knitted of the palest mauve, shot with green
and gold threads.

'I have seen Schreiermeyer,' he said. 'Is there to be any secret about
your _debut_?'

'None whatever! But I have said nothing about it, and none of the
people here seem to have found it out yet.'

'So much the better. In everything connected with the theatre I believe
it is a mistake to try and excite interest before the event. What is
said beforehand is rarely said afterwards. You can be sure that
Schreiermeyer will say nothing till the time comes, and if Madame
Bonanni talks about you to her friends in London, nobody will believe
she is in earnest.'

'But she is so outspoken,' Margaret objected.

'Yes, but no one could possibly understand that a prima donna just on
the edge of decline could possibly wish to advertise a rising light. It
is hardly human!'

'I think she is the most good-natured woman I ever knew,' said Margaret
with conviction.

'She has a heart of gold. Her only trouble in life is that she has too
much of it! There is enough for everybody. She has always had far too
much for one.'

Logotheti smiled at his own expression.

'Perhaps that is better than having no heart at all,' Margaret
answered, not quite realising how the words might have been
misunderstood.

'The heart is a convenient and elastic organ,' observed Logotheti. 'It
does almost everything. It sinks, it swells, it falls, it leaps, it
stands still, it quivers, it gets into one's throat and it breaks; but
it goes on beating all the time with more or less regularity, just as
the violin clown scrapes his fiddle while he turns somersaults, sticks
out his tongue, sits down with frightful suddenness and tumbles in and
out of his white hat.'

He talked to amuse her and occupy her while he looked at her, studying
her lines, as a yacht expert studies those of a new and beautiful
model; yet he knew so well how to glance and look away, and glance
again, that she was not at all aware of what he was really doing. She
laughed a little at what he said.

'Where did you learn to speak English so well?' she asked.

'Languages do not count nowadays,' he answered carelessly. 'Any
Levantine in Smyrna can speak a dozen, like a native. Have you never
been in the East?'

'No.'

'Should you like to go to Greece?'

'Of course I should.'

'Then come! I am going to take a party in my yacht next month. It will
give me the greatest pleasure if