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The colour had fled froid

"She will come back," she said stiffly

"I hope not!" And he threw himself carelessly down on the turf to rest--"Come and sit beside me here and tell me what she said to you!"

But Manella was silent Her dark, passionate eyes rested upon hi depths

"Come!" he repeated--"Don't stare at me as if I were some new sort of reptile!"

"I think you are!" she said, coldly--"You sees of a esture of indifference--"I have the feelings of a modern man,--the 'Kultur' of a perfect super-German! Yes, that is so! Sentiment is the mere fly-trap of sensuality--the feeler thrust out to scent the prey, but once the fly is caught, the trap closes Do you understand? No, of course you don't! You are a dreadfully primitive woman!"

"I did not think you were Gerhed--"Nor am I I said just now that I had the 'Kultur' of a super-Ger above every other et away from himself--nor can I! That's the trouble! Come, obey me, Manella! Sit down here beside me!"

Very slowly and very reluctantly she did as he requested She sat on the grass some three or four paces off He stretched out a hand to touch her, but she pushed it back very decidedly He s, eh?" he queried "All right! I don't want to make love--it doesn't interest ood temper! You are like a ruht way"

"YOU will not stroke it so!" said Manella, disdainfully

"No?"

"No Never again!"

"Oh, dire tragedy!" And he stretched himself out on the turf with his arms above his head--"But what does it matter! Give me your news, silly child! What did the 'little wonderful white woman' say to you?"

"You want to know?"

"I think so! I am conscious of a certain barbaric spirit of curiosity, like that of a savage who sees a photograph of himself for the first time! Yes! I want to knohat the modern feminine said to the primitive!"