t always go to the victor," she warned him.

"I still have your luck-piece," said he, smiling as he slapped his
trousers-leg.

"It has always brought me luck," she said, looking straight into his
eyes. "It may continue to do so, who knows? Alas for you, my friend,
you may yet have to turn to me for consolation. It is the ill-wind that
blows nobody good. Am I not shocking, Mr. Percivail?"

They had lost Madame Careni-Amori, who was behind them, shrieking a
command through a port-hole to her maid.

He looked at her in amazement. "I don't know what to think of you,
Madame Obosky." Then he grinned. "Good Lord! You--you can't be making me
an offer of marriage?"

"Heaven forbid!" she cried. "I have had all I want of marriage, my
friend. You will never catch me doing anything so foolish as that again.
No, no! I do not desire to marry you, Mr. Percivail. Nothing so dreadful
as that! Suppose we would be married,--what zen? Poof! Because I am an
honest woman I would have to tell you some time zat I have had ze honour
to be once the mistress of a Crown Prince,--and then you would hold up
your holy hands and cry out, 'My God, what kind of a woman is this I
have marry?' and--Oh, but I would not tell you about zat Crown Prince
until we have been married a year or two, so do not look so pleased!
In a year you would be hating me so much zat you would rejoice to hear
about the Crown Prince, and I would be loathing you so much zat I would
probably have to kill you,--because I do not believe in divorce any more
than I believe in marriage. You see? Most women hate their husbands.
They never hate their lovers. It is so difficult to get rid of the one,
and so easy to keep the other,--zat is the explanation. So! Now you
may know zat love is the humblest thing in the world, and passion the
noblest, for love is for the weak while passion is for the strong. Love
is easily deceived, passion never. Love endures, passion conquers. Love
is blind, passion is sight itself. Love rules the world, but passion
rules love. Love consents, passion demands. Love is law, passion is
life. I could go on forever, but I see you do not like my discourse. Zat
is because you are already in love, my friend. Poof! You will get over
that!" She laughed.

Percival was white clear through. He was red-blooded, but at the same
time his heart was clean. Once more he found himself contrasting the
honest-eyed, pure-hearted Ruth with this sensual scoffer. There was no
den