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 dear little Mahâra! what have I done to you? Tell me!—only tell me!”

“Shall I tell it in English?” asked the Eurasian softly. Her eyes now were nearly closed; “or does it worry you that I speak so ugly”…

“Mahâra!”…

“I only say, be so very careful.”

He made a final, bold attempt to throw his arms about her, but she slipped from his grasp and ran lightly across the room.

“Go! hurry off!” she said, bending forward and pointing at him with her fan, her eyes widely opened and blazing—“but remember—there is danger! There is Said, who creeps silently, like the jackal”…

She opened the ebony door and darted into the corridor beyond, closing the door behind her.

Gianapolis looked about him in a dazed manner, and yet again applied his handkerchief to his stinging eyes. Whoever could have seen him now must have failed to recognize the radiant Gianapolis so well-known in Bohemian society, the Gianapolis about whom floated a halo of mystery, but who at all times was such a good fellow and so debonair. He took up his hat and gloves, turned, and resolutely strode to the door. Once he glanced back over his shoulder, but shrugged with a sort of self-contempt, and ascended to the top of the steps.

With a key which he selected from a large bunch