g
round on the music-stool and was looking full at her. His face had
changed.

"Since you ask me, I thought you should know that Gustav is seeing a
good deal of her."

He had given the exact answer she had divined.

"Do you think I mind that?"

A flicker passed over his face. He got up and said quietly:

"I am glad that you do not."

"Why glad?"

She, too, had risen. Though he was little taller than herself, she was
conscious suddenly of how thick and steely he was beneath his dapper
garments, and of a kind of snaky will-power in his face. Her heart beat
faster.

He came toward her and said:

"I am glad you understand that it is over with Gustav--finished--" He
stopped dead, seeing at once that he had gone wrong, and not knowing
quite where. Gyp had simply smiled. A flush coloured his cheeks, and he
said:

"He is a volcano soon extinguished. You see, I know him. Better you
should know him, too. Why do you smile?"

"Why is it better I should know?"

He went very pale, and said between his teeth:

"That you may not waste your time; there is love waiting for you."

But Gyp still smiled.

"Was it from love of me that you made him drunk last night?"

His lips quivered.

"Gyp!" Gyp turned. But with the merest change of front, he had put
himself between her and the door. "You never loved him. That is my
excuse. You have given him too much already--more than he is worth. Ah!
God! I am tortured by you; I am possessed."

He had gone white through and through like a flame, save for his
smouldering eyes. She was afraid, and because she was afraid, she stood
her ground. Should she make a dash for the door that opened into the
little lane and escape that way? Then suddenly he seemed to regain
control; but she could feel that he was trying to break through her
defences by the sheer intensity of his gaze--by a kind of mesmerism,
knowing that he had frightened her.

Under the strain of this duel of eyes, she felt herself beginning to
sway, to get dizzy. Whether or no he really moved his feet, he seemed
coming closer inch by inch. She had a horrible feeling--as if his arms
were already round her.

With an effort, she wrenched her gaze from his, and suddenly his crisp
hair caught her eyes. Surely--surely it was curled with tongs! A kind of
spasm of amusement was set free in her heart, and, almost inaudibly, the
words escaped her lips: "Une technique merveilleuse!" His eyes wavered;
he uttered a little gasp; hi