Women are more alike than men are; some of the nature of the worst of

them is latent in the very best, and in the very worst there are little

treasures of gentleness and faith that can ransom the poor soul at

last.

'I am in earnest, indeed I am,' Logotheti repeated, looking at Margaret

still.

'Yes,' she answered, 'I am sure you are.' There was something in her tone that acquiesced, that almost approved,

and he felt that these were the first words of encouragement she had

vouchsafed him.

A portentous yawn from Madame De Rosa made them both turn round. She

was stretching herself like a cat when it wakes, and looking about her

with blinking eyes, as if trying to remember where she was. Then she

saw Margaret, smiled at her spasmodically, and yawned again.

'I must have been asleep,' she said, and she laughed rather foolishly.

'Only for a few minutes,' answered Logotheti in a reassuring tone.

Margaret rose and came up to her, followed by the Greek.

'It's most extraordinary!' cried Madame De Rosa. 'I never go to sleep

like that! Do you think it could possibly have been the maraschino?' 'No indeed!' Logotheti laughed carelessly. 'You were tired, after the

rehearsal.' He put the decanter back into the large liqueur case from which he had

taken it, shut down the lid, locked it and put the key in his pocket.

Madame De Rosa watched him in silence, but Margaret paid no attention

to what he was doing, for she was accustomed to see Mrs. Rushmore do

the same thing. The taste of servants for liqueur and cigars is quite

irreproachable; they always take the best there is.

A few minutes later the three were on their way to Versailles, and

before long Logotheti put Margaret down at Mrs. Rushmore's gate,

starting to take Madame De Rosa back to Paris, as soon as the girl had

gone in. Neither of them said much on the way, and the motor stopped

again in the Boulevard Malesherbes. Madame De Rosa thanked Logotheti,

with an odd little smile of intelligence.

'Take care!' she said, as they parted, and her beady little black eyes

looked sharply at him.

'Why?' he asked, with perfect calm, but his lids were slightly

contracted.

Madame De Rosa shook her finger at him, laughed and ran in, leaving him

standing on the pavement.




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