and English
temperaments."

"No, madame. It is the difference between the man who is and the man who
is not afraid to live."

"I don't agree with you," said Charmian coldly. "But really it is not a
matter which I can discuss with you."

"I have no wish to discuss it. All I wish to say is this"--he looked
down, hesitated, then with a sort of dogged obstinacy continued, "that I
am willing to buy back my libretto from you at the price for which I
sold it. I have come to the conclusion that it is not likely to suit
your husband's talent. I am very poor indeed, alas! but I prefer to lose
a hundred pounds rather than to--"

"Have you spoken to my husband of this?" Charmian interrupted him.

She was almost trembling with anger and excitement, but she managed to
speak quietly.

"No, madame."

"You have asked me a question--"

"I have asked no question, madame!"

"Do you mean to say you are not asking me if we will resell the
libretto?"

Gillier was silent.

"My answer is that the libretto is our property and that we intend to
keep it. If you offered us five times what we gave you for it the answer
would be the same."

She paused. Gillier said nothing. She looked at him and suddenly anger,
a sense of outrage, got the better of her, and she added with intense
bitterness:

"We are living here in North Africa, we have given up our home, our
friends, our occupations, everything--our life in England"--her voice
trembled. "Everything, I say, in order to do justice to your work, and
you come, you dare to come to us, and ask--ask--"

Gillier got up.

"Madame, I see it is useless. You have bought my work, if you choose to
keep it--"

"We do choose to keep it."

"Then I can do nothing."

He pulled out his watch.

"It is late. I must wish you good-night, madame. Kindly say good-night
for me to that lady, your friend, and to Monsieur Heath."

He bowed. Charmian did not hold out her hand. She meant to, but it
seemed to her that her hand refused to move, as if it had a will of its
own to resist hers.

"Good-night," she said.

She watched his rather short and broad figure pass across the open space
of the court and disappear.

After he had gone she moved across the court to the fountain and sat
down at its edge. She was trembling now, and her excitement was growing
in solitude. But she still had the desire to govern it, the hope that
she would be able to do so. She felt that she had been grossly insulted
by