need of these, although I
think not. And in any case, if trouble can be deferred until to-morrow,
why concern oneself over it? You interest me. I begin yet more to
approve of you."

"Then, as to that breakfast _a la fourchette_ with Madam; if I remain,
will you agree to tell me what is your business here?"

She laughed at me gaily. "I might," she said, "provided that meantime I
had learned whether or not you were married that night."

I do not profess that I read all that was in her face as she stepped
back toward the satin curtains and swept me the most graceful curtsey I
had ever seen in all my life. I felt like reaching out a hand to
restrain her. I felt like following her. She was assuredly bewildering,
assuredly as puzzling as she was fascinating. I only felt that she was
mocking me. Ah, she was a woman!

I felt something swiftly flame within me. There arose about me that net
of amber-hued perfume, soft, enthralling, difficult of evasion.... Then
I recalled my mission; and I remembered what Mr. Calhoun and Doctor Ward
had said. I was not a man; I was a government agent. She was not a
woman; she was my opponent. Yes, but then--

Slowly I turned to the opposite side of this long central room. There
were curtains here also. I drew them, but as I did so I glanced back.
Again, as on that earlier night, I saw her face framed in the amber
folds--a face laughing, mocking. With an exclamation of discontent, I
threw down my heavy pistol on the floor, cast my coat across the foot of
the bed to prevent the delicate covering from being soiled by my boots,
and so rested without further disrobing.

In the opposite apartment I could hear her moving about, humming to
herself some air as unconcernedly as though no such being as myself
existed in the world. I heard her presently accost her servant, who
entered through some passage not visible from the central apartments.
Then without concealment there seemed to go forward the ordinary routine
of madam's toilet for the evening.

"No, I think the pink one," I heard her say, "and please--the bath,
Threlka, just a trifle more warm." She spoke in French, her ancient
serving-woman, as I took it, not understanding the English language.
They both spoke also in a tongue I did not know. I heard the rattling of
toilet articles, certain sighs of content, faint splashings beyond. I
could not escape from all this. Then I imagined that perhaps madam was
having her heavy locks combed by the