me--She would go back to Paris by the last train--.

"Good-bye, Suzette!"--and I bent down and kissed her forehead--"You have
been the jolliest little pal possible--and remember that I have
appreciated it,--and you will always have a real friend in me!"

She burst into tears once more--real tears--.

"_Je t'aime bien!_" she whispered--"I shall go to Deauville--_Va!_"

We wrung hands, and she went to the door, but there she turned, and some
of her old fire came back to her--.

"Pah! these English Meeses! thin, stiff, _ennuyeuse_!--thou wilt yet
regret thy Suzette, Nicholas!" and with this she left me.

* * * * *

So that episode in my life is ended--and I shall never repeat the
experiment.

But are not women the most amazing creatures!

You adore them and give them abject devotion and they treat you as
dirt--nothing can be so cruel as the tenderest hearted woman is to a
male slave--! Another woman appears upon the scene--then the first one
begins to treat you with some respect. You grow masterful--love is
aroused in her. You become indifferent--and very often it is she who
then turns into the slave!--The worst of it is that when you really care
you are incapable of playing a game successfully. The woman's
subconscious mind _knows_ that it is merely pretense--and so she remains
a tyrant.--It is only when she herself has ceased to put forth
sufficient attraction to keep you and you are growing numb that you can
win out and find your self-respect again.

There was a moment when I was very angry with Suzette and almost shaking
her, when I saw in her eyes the first look of real passionate
affection--!

Are there any women in the world who could be mates?--who would be able
to love one, and hold one at the same time--satisfying one's mind and
one's spirit and one's body--?--Could Alathea--?--I do not know.

I had got this far in my speculations when a note was brought to me by a
smart French maid--it was now past eleven at night--.

It was from Coralie--.

"I am here, _cher Ami_--I am rather in a difficulty--Can I come to your
sitting-room?"

I scribbled "of course"--and in a moment she came--seductive and
distressful. Duquesnois had been recalled to the front suddenly--her
husband would be back on the morrow--. Might she stay and have some St.
Galmier water with me--could we ring the bell and order it, so that the
waiter might see her there?--because if the husband asked anythi