walls. And
they seemed to illuminate the room like sunshine.

Shotwell, who knew nothing about such things but envisaged them with
reverence, seated Palla and presently took his place beside her.

His neighbour on his left was Marya, again--an arrangement which Palla
might have altered had it occurred to her upstairs.

Estridge, very animated, and apparently happy, recalled to Palla their
last dinner together, and their dance.

Palla laughed: "You said I drank too much champagne, John Estridge! Do
you remember?"

"You bet I do. You had a cunning little bunn, Palla----"

"I did not! I merely asked you and Mr. Brisson what it felt like to be
intoxicated."

"You did your best to be a sport," he insisted, "but you almost passed
away over your first cigarette!"

"Darling!" cried Ilse, "don't let them tease you!"

Palla, rather pink, laughingly denied any aspirations toward sportdom;
and she presently ventured a glance at Shotwell, to see how he took
all this.

But already Marya had engaged him in half smiling, low-voiced
conversation; and Palla looked at her golden-green eyes and warm, rich
colouring, cooled by a skin of snow. Tiger-golden, the _rousse_
ensemble; the supple movement of limb and body fascinated her; but
most of all the lovely, slanting eyes with their glint of beryl amid
melting gold.

Estridge spoke to Marya; as the girl turned slightly, Palla said to
Shotwell:

"Do you find them interesting--my guests?"

He turned instantly to her, but it seemed to her as though there were
a slight haze in his eyes--a fixedness--which cleared, however, as he
spoke.

"They are delightful--all of them," he said. "Your blond goddess
yonder is rather overpowering, but beautiful to gaze upon."

"And Vanya?"

"Charming; astonishing."

"Lovable," she said.

"He seems so."

"And--Marya?"

"Rather bewildering," he replied. "Fascinating, I should say. Is she
very learned?"

"I don't know."

"She's been in the universities."

"Yes.... I don't know how learned she is."

"She is very young," he remarked.

It was on the tip of Palla's tongue to say something; and she remained
silent--lest this man misinterpret her motive--and, perhaps, lest her
own conscience misinterpret it, too.

Ilse said it to Estridge, however, frankly insouciant:

"You know Marya and Vanya are married--that is, they live together."

And Shotwell heard her.

"Is that true?" he said in a low voice to Palla.

"Why, yes."