ass out on the balcony where were wicker chairs and
tables. We sat down, and she told me, briefly, what had happened to her.

"No, there was no regret that I could perceive. 'I had to get something
to do,' she remarked, naively. Her father and the lieutenant, M.
Nikitos, found themselves up against mysterious and unsuspected
difficulties. The boiler of the _Osmanli_ collapsed and needed extended
repair. The proposal that she should marry M. Nikitos was never
seriously raised again. 'No, she had never had any intention ... that
little shrimp!' They took a house and lived a while on credit. She had
to do something. Her father lived in a sort of trance, dealing with the
difficulties which beset his schemes like a child playing with bricks
continually falling down. She had to do something, she reiterated,
moving her gold bracelets to and fro on her wrist. And yet she was
unable to do anything--at first. She was in the _Jardin de la Tour
Blanche_ when Kinaitsky spoke to her. He, a man of wealth, of the world,
a vigorous connoisseur of life, was at that time emotionally at large.
He had had a furious row with a Syrian dancer ... so on and so forth.
And he understood in a flash. It was plain that Artemisia would develop
into one of those women who waste no time over dunderheads. When I said,
reasonably enough, for she wore a wedding ring, 'Then you are not really
married?' she clicked her tongue against her teeth and shrugged her
shoulders. Oh, she was practising on me! I could see that. She thought,
I suppose, that I was proof against her; but how she would have tortured
young Siddons, for example, in love with her, young, sensitive,
chivalrous, full of faith in the nobility of womanhood. Yes, Kinaitsky
understood. He knew women. Fortunate man! He sent her a large sum of
money, and told her to write to him when she was free. He had a big
house fronting the Gulf. She turned Nikitos out to shift for himself,
took charge of the house he had taken for them in the _Rue Paleologue_,
and 'got through somehow,' as she put it. She was vague about this
episode, which was not surprising. There was a certain art in the way
she broke off with 'Mr. Chief, you can understand I was glad....' and
rose to ring for tea. 'Yes,' she said, when she came back, 'and then I
found myself free to--to do something.'

"'Something, as you told me, I would not approve of?' I suggested. She
broke into a smile and put her hand caressingly on my arm.

"'Don