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 her bleached hair fuzzier, perched on a stone balustrade overlooking the lake and puffed, with imperfect complaisance, at her cigarette while she turned the diamond rings on her fingers. She dreamed, not of taking over authority, but of bigger diamonds and more of them. Mendell's beloved stood on the tile pavement tossing grain to doves and dreamed, I was sure, not of domination, but of brighter silks for her body, richer food and service.

Sally Gessler arose from an inconspicuous seat in the shadow.

"So you're back," she said with some satisfaction; and the sight of her partly reassured me. "You must have been kept going."

"I've been moving," I agreed.

"Danced you, did they?"

"Is that what they call it? Yes; they did."

She considered me, with her dark, naturally heavy and languorous, drooped over her green irises which were bright with excitement. Gin supplied some of the stimulation; perhaps a drug helped with the brightness; but there were other excitations too.

She seemed thinner than yesterday, drawing