g off the slate.

Of course Claude Heath and Gillier would be at dinner. It would be
rather fun to see Claude's face when she walked in with Henriette and
Max Elliot.

She got up and stood by the rail; and now she looked down on Claude with
intention, willing that he should look up at her. Why should not she
have the fun of seeing his surprise while she was alone? Why should she
share with Henriette?

Without turning his eyes in her direction Claude rapped on his table
with a piece of money, paid a waiter for his coffee, got up, made his
way out of the cafe, and mingled with the crowd. He did not come toward
the hotel, but turned up the street leading to the Governor's palace and
disappeared. Mrs. Shiffney noticed an Arab in a blue jacket and a white
burnous, who joined him as he left the cafe.

"Local color, I suppose," she murmured to herself. She wished she could
go off like that in the strange and violent crowd, could be quite
independent.

"What a curse it is to be a woman!" she thought.

Then she resolved after dinner to go out for a stroll with Claude.
Henriette should not come. If she, Adelaide Shiffney, were going to work
for Henriette she must be left to work in her own way. She thought of
the little intrigue that was on foot, and smiled. Then she looked out
beyond the Place, over the dusty public gardens and the houses, to the
far-off, serene, bare mountains. For a moment their calm outlines held
her eyes. For a moment the clamor of voices from below seemed to die out
of her ears. Then she shivered, drew back into her room, and felt for
the knob of the electric light. Darkness was falling, and it was growing
cold on this rocky height which frowned above the gorge of the Rummel.

Neither Claude Heath nor Gillier appeared at dinner. Their absence was
discussed by Mrs. Shiffney and her friends, and Mrs. Shiffney told them
that she had seen Claude Heath that evening in a cafe. After dinner
Henriette Sennier remarked discontentedly:

"What are we going to do?"

"Max, why don't you get a guide and take Henriette out to see some
dancing? There is dancing only five minutes from here," said Mrs.
Shiffney.

"Well, but you--aren't you coming?"

She had exchanged a glance with Henriette.

"I must write some letters. If I'm not too long over them perhaps I'll
follow you. I can't miss you. All the dancing is in the same street."

"But I don't think there are any dancing women here."

"The Kabyle boys danc