into the flame
of it nevertheless.

He sat down beside her and took her hand in his.

"I know I was violent this morning; I could not help myself. I am a
Tor di Rocca. It would be so easy for you to make me happy--"

She listened quietly.

A waiter brought the tea and set it on a little table between them.

"You had coffee yesterday," she said. "It seems years ago."

"I have forgotten yesterday, _Incipit vita nuova_! Do you remember I
came to you dressed in Dante's red _lucco_?"

"Yes, but you are not a bit like him."

She came to the point presently. "Filippo, you say you want me?"

"More than anything in this world."

Her eyes met his and held them. "Well, if you will get out of fighting
M'sieur Michelin I will come to you--meet you--anywhere and at any
hour after noon to-morrow."

"Ah, you make conditions."

"Of course."

"How can I get out of fighting him? The man struck me, insulted me."

"Yes," she said, "and you know why!"

"I have asked your pardon for that," he said with an effort that
brought the colour into his face.

"Yes, but that is not enough. I don't choose that this unpleasantness
should go any further. Write a letter to him now--we will concoct it
together--and--and--I will be nice to you."

She smiled at him, and there was no shadow of fear or of regret in the
blue eyes that looked towards the almost certain end.

"Well, I must be let down easily," he said unwillingly. "I am not
going to lick his boots."

They sat down at the writing-table together, and she began to dictate.
"Just scribble this, and if it does you can make a fair copy
afterwards.

"'DEAR MONSIEUR MICHELIN,--On reflection I understand that your
conduct this morning was justifiable from your point of view, and I
withdraw--'"

Filippo laid down the pen. "I shall not say that."

"Begin again then," she said patiently.

"'I have been asked to write to you by a third person whom I wish to
please. She tells me that this morning's unpleasantness resulted from
a misunderstanding. She says she has deceived you, and she hopes that
you will forgive her. I suppose from what she has said that your hasty
action was excusable, as you thought her other than she is, and I
think that you may now regret it and agree with me that this need go
no farther--'"

"This is better for me," he said.

"Yes." She took the pen from him and wrote under his signature: "You
will be sorry to know that your child is a liar. Try to forget