Page 4 (2/2)

"Probably sent back her maid for her Bible Ah, these Anificent voice to-night I wonder why she never sings

Carmen?"

"Have I not said that she is too cold? What! would you see frost grow upon

the toreador's mustache? And what a name, what a name! Eleonora da

Toscana!"

Courtlandt was not in the most amiable condition of mind, and a hint of

the ribald would have instantly transfor precariously; but its potentialities beca on the appearance of another woman

This woman was richly dressed, too richly Apparently she had trusted her

e and unaccountable

inherent love of fine feathers and warm colors which is invariably the

mute utterance of peasant blood She was followed by a Russian, huge of

body, Jovian of countenance An expensive car rolled up to the curb A

liveried footman jumped down from beside the chauffeur and opened the

door The diva turned her head this way and that, a thin s her lips For Flora Desimone loved the human eye

whenever it stared ad traps and lures, rather successfully She and her forot into the car which i

sound There was breeding in the engine, anyhow, thought Courtlandt, who

longed to put his strong fingers around that luxurious throat which had,

but a second gone, passed him so closely