quickly over and put his hand on my shoulder.

"Thank you, old man," I said. Then I looked at the Princess.

She was leaning carelessly back in her chair, watching the Spencer
woman through half-closed eyes--a bright flush on each cheek and: a
faint smile, half sneer, half amusement, on her lips. Suddenly she
looked at me, and the smile flashed out into such an one as she had
given me in the Royal Box.

My heart gave a great bound--I knew she trusted me, still. I turned to
the woman in black.

"Is it possible, Madame, that you claim to be my wife?" I asked.

She dropped Moore's arm and took a step toward me--and, as I live,
there were tears in her eyes.

"What has changed you, Armand?" she asked. "Why do you flout me so?"

I stared at her. "God help me, woman, you must be crazy!" I said.

She put out her hand appealingly. "You don't mean that, dear, surely?"
And, now, the tears were in her voice, too.

"What I mean, Madame, is that you are either crazy or playing some
game," I answered curtly.

She brushed aside the tears and gave me a look of almost heart-broken
appeal.

"Why do you deny me, Armand?" she cried. "Have I grown ugly in the
last few months? Has the beauty you used to praise turned so soon to
ashes?"

Unfortunately, for me, her beauty had not turned to ashes. She was, at
that very moment, the handsomest woman I had ever seen--save only the
Princess. The slender figure--the magnificent neck and shoulders--the
roll upon roll of jet-black hair--the almost classic face--and all in
distress and trouble.

She was a picture, surely; and one that was making its impression;
judging from the faces of Lord and Lady Radnor. I changed my manner.

"My dear Mrs. Spencer," I said kindly, "no one may deny your
beauty--and I, least of all. But I do deny that I am your husband.
You are, evidently, ill, and laboring under some queer hallucination."

She shook her head. "You know perfectly well, Armand, I am not ill nor
under a delusion," she said, and looked me straight in the eyes.

"Then, Madame, you are a wonderful--actress," I answered.

Again the tears welled up, and one trickled slowly down her cheek. She
turned quickly and made as though to go. But Courtney stayed her.

"My dear Madame," he said, with that gracious courtesy of his, which I
have never seen equalled by courtier of any Court, "may I ask you a
question?"

She inclined her head in answer and waited.

"You have claimed