her claws
into him, but, for safety's sake, that should be done not in attack,
but in defense. Therefore he should speak first, and in his words,
whatever those words might be, she promised herself to discover
legitimate cause of offense. So, leisurely, and with studied ignorance
of his presence, she flung largesse of _centissimi_ to right and left,
and, while the chorus of blessing and entreaty was yet loud, walked
calmly past M. Destournelle down the wide, shallow steps, from the
solid shadow of the portico to the burning sun-glare of the piazza.

The young man's countenance went livid.

"Do you dare to pretend not to recognise me?" he literally gasped.

"On the contrary I recognise you perfectly."

"I have written to you repeatedly."

"You have--written to me with a ridiculous and odious persistence."

Madame de Vallorbes picked her steps. The pavement was uneven, the heat
great. Destournelle's hands twitched with agitation, yet he contrived
not only to replace his Panama hat, but opened his white umbrella as a
precaution against sunstroke. And this diverted, even while
exasperating, Helen. Measures to ensure personal safety were so
characteristic of Destournelle.

"And with what fault, I ask you, can you reproach me, save that of a
too absorbing, a too generous, adoration?"

"That fault in itself is very sufficient."

"Do you not reckon, then, in any degree, with the crime you are in
process of committing? Have you no sense of gratitude, of obligation?
Have you no regret for your own loss in leaving me?"

Helen drew aside to let a herd of goats pass. They jostled one another
impudently, carrying their inquisitive heads and short tails erect, at
right angles to the horizontal line of their narrow backs. They
bleated, as in impish mischief. Their little beards wagged. Their
little hoofs pattered on the stone, and the musky odour of them hung in
the burning air. Madame de Vallorbes put her handkerchief up to her
face, and over the edge of it she contemplated Paul Destournelle. Every
detail of his appearance was not only familiar, but associated in her
mind with some incident of his and her common past. Now the said
details asserted themselves, so it seemed to her, with an impertinence
of premeditated provocation.--The high, domed skull, the smooth,
prematurely-thin hair parted in the middle and waved over the ears. The
slightly raised eyebrows, and fatigued, red-lidded, and vain, though
handsome eyes. The