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 of Floss's she smiled in the peculiar manner that so stamped, yet so failed to reveal her individuality, and he heard, bubbling up within him, all the unwonted endearing words that had been confided to his pillow late last night, and early this morning.

Floss went to give orders and get information from the Cossacks, and presently called for him to bring a pencil. She had more items to add to her shopping list. When he came back Olga was examining her appearance in a tall mirror, with satisfaction but without vanity.

"It couldn't be improved," he assured her, timidly.

"Oh si!" she laconically contradicted. "A little touch of powder," and she proceeded to apply it, without, so far as Grover could detect, altering the ivory smoothness by the least appreciable degree.

Compliments, he reflected, were lost on her. In the manner of other Frenchwomen he had observed, she had long since assessed herself at a certain value, neither too great nor too small, and quite simply abided by it.

He was wondering what to say next when Floss returned and they went out to the car.

Grover had come with a vague intention of talking to Floss, even of confessing and asking counsel. Free as she was from amorous complications and yearnings of her own, Floss took enormous interest in the complications and yearnings of others, and at times was uncannily perspicacious. It was even possible that she