His Hour

It seemed amusing to look from the windows of a private room, down upon

a gay supping throng, in the general salle at the restaurant on the

Islands, while Tziganes played and their supper was being prepared.

"Who could think it was five o'clock in the morning! What a lesson for

our rotten old County Council in London," Jack Courtray said. "By Jove!

this is the place for me!" and he proceeded to make violent love to

Olga Gléboff, to who's side he remained persistently glued.

And then the gayest repast began; nothing could have been more

entertaining or full of wild entrain, and yet no one over-did

it, or was vulgar or coarse.

At the last moment, when they were all starting for home about seven

o'clock, Countess Olga decided she could not face the cold of the open

sleigh, and Lord Courtray and she got into her motor instead.

It was done so quickly, Tamara was already packed into the troika, and

the outside steeds were prancing in their desire to be off.

"The horses won't stand," the Prince said, and he jumped in beside her

and gave the order to go. Thus Tamara found herself alone with him

flying over the snow under the stars.

There was a delicious feeling of excitement in her veins. They neither

of them spoke for a while, but the Prince drew nearer and yet nearer,

and presently his arm slipped round her, and he folded her close.

"Doushka," he whispered. "I hate the Englishman--and life is so short.

Let us taste it while we may," and then he bent and kissed her lips!

Tamara struggled against the intense intoxicating emotion she was

experiencing. What frightful tide was this which had swept into her

well-ordered life! She vainly put up her arms and tried to push him

away, but with each sign of revolt he held her the tighter.

"Darling," he said softly in her ear. "My little white soul. Do not

fight, it is perfectly useless, because I will do what I wish.

See, I will be gentle and just caress you, if you do not madden me by

trying to resist!"

Then he gathered her right into his arms, and again bent and most

tenderly kissed her. All power of movement seemed to desert Tamara. She

only knew that she was wildly happy, that this was heaven, and she

would wish it never to end.

She ceased struggling and closed her eyes, then he whispered all sorts

of cooing love words in Russian and French, and rubbed his velvet

eyelids against her cheek, and every few seconds his lips would come to

meet her lips.