her hair was a jewelled osprey. She presented a
striking appearance and I gained the impression of some northern spirit
in her that shone out of her eyes with the brilliancy of ice.

Sarakoff strode forward, and the contrast that these two afforded was
extraordinary. Tall, dark, warm and animated, he stood beside her, and
stooped to kiss her hand. She gazed at him with a smile so slight that
it seemed scarcely to disturb the perfect symmetry of her face. He began
to talk, moving his whole body constantly and making gestures with his
arms, with a play of different expressions in his face. She listened
without moving, save that her eyes wandered slowly round the large hall.
At length Sarakoff beckoned to me.

I approached somewhat awkwardly and was introduced.

"Leonora," said the Russian, "this is a little English doctor with a
very large brain. He was closely connected with the great discovery of
which I am going to tell you something to-night at dinner. He is my
friend and his name is Richard Harden."

"I like your name," said Leonora, in a clear soft voice.

I took her hand. We passed into the restaurant. It was one of those vast
pleasure-palaces of music, scent, colour and food that abounded in
London. An orchestra was playing somewhere high aloft. The luxury of
these establishments was always sounding a curious warning deep down in
my mind. But then, as Sarakoff had said, I am a pessimist, and if I were
to say that I have noticed that nature often becomes very prodigal and
lavish just before she takes away and destroys, I would be uttering,
perhaps, one of the many half-truths in which the pessimistic spirit
delights.

Our table was in a corner at an agreeable distance from the orchestra.
Sarakoff placed Leonora between him and myself. Attentive waiters
hurried to serve us; and the eyes of everyone in our immediate
neighbourhood were turned in our direction. Leonora did not appear to be
affected by the interest she aroused. She flung her cloak on the back of
her chair, put her elbows on the table, and gazed at the Russian
intently.

"Tell me of your discovery, Alexis."

He smiled, enchanted.

"I shall be best able to give you some idea of what our discovery means
if I begin by telling you that I am going to read your character. Does
that interest you?"

She nodded. Then she turned to me and studied me for a moment.

"No, Alexis. Let Richard read my character first."

I blushed successfully.

"Why do