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44 "They call her 'the Devil's wife'!" said John. "Let's go out and see if she's in the promenade."

So we got up and went out. As we left the box Kharkoff and Léontine passed, dressed for the street. I was talking to Miss Dalghren and Léontine's eyes avoided mine but rested for a moment intently on the girl. Miss Dalghren gave a little shiver.

"She's rather terrible, I think," said she. "Did you see the look she gave me? It was not agreeable. I wonder why?"

"Jealousy, perhaps," said John.

"Of what? " asked Miss Dalghren, quickly.

"I fancy," said John, "that for all of her dark beauty the Night is always a bit jealous of the Morning; also, your pearls are finer than hers."

Miss Dalghren shrugged her handsome shoulders, but did not seem pleased. We started to walk through the press, talking of the music and the people, and presently returned to the box.

When the show was over and we went out into the crush a woman attendant brushed past me and slipped a piece of paper into my hand. I guessed what it was and shoved it into my pocket, fiercely angry for the second that Léontine should have taken a chance like that. But the attendant had glanced at the lapel of my coat, and I saw that Léontine had probably noticed John's decoration and told the woman to give the note to the one of us who did not wear the red ribbon. John had been decorated for some silly thing or other; assisting at the unveiling of a statue, I believe.

We went for supper, then home. As soon as I