The Place of Honeymoons

As he was leaving, a square of light attracted his attention. He looked up

to see the outline of the bearded Russ in the window. Poor devil! He was

going to have a merry time of it. Well, that was his affair. Besides,

Russians, half the year chilled by their bitter snows, were susceptible to

volcanoes; they courted them as a counterbalance. Perhaps he had spoken

roughly, but his temper had not been under control. One thing he recalled

with grim satisfaction. He had sent a barbed arrow up the tube to disturb

the felicity of the dove-cote. The duke would be rather curious to know

what was meant in referring to the night she had come to his,

Courtlandt's, room. He laughed. It would be a fitting climax indeed if the

duke called him out.

But what of the pretty woman in the Taverne Royale? What about her? At

whose bidding had she followed him? One or the other of them had not told

the truth, and he was inclined to believe that the prevarication had its

source in the pomegranate lips of the Calabrian. To give the old barb one

more twist, to learn if its venomous point still held and hurt; nothing

would have afforded the diva more delight. Courtlandt glared at the window

as the shade rolled down.

When the taxicab joined the long line of carriages and automobiles

opposite the Austrian ambassador's, Courtlandt awoke to the dismal and

disquieting fact that he had formulated no plan of action. He had done no

more than to give the driver his directions; and now that he had arrived,

he had the choice of two alternatives. He could wait to see her come out

or return at once to his hotel, which, as subsequent events affirmed,

would have been the more sensible course. He would have been confronted

with small difficulty in gaining admission to the house. He knew enough of

these general receptions; the announcing of his name would have conveyed

nothing to the host, who knew perhaps a third of his guests, and many of

these but slightly. But such an adventure was distasteful to Courtlandt.

He could not overstep certain recognized boundaries of convention, and to

enter a man's house unasked was colossal impudence. Beyond this, he

realized that he could have accomplished nothing; the advantage would have

been hers. Nor could he meet her as she came out, for again the odds would

have been largely in her favor. No, the encounter must be when they two

were alone. She must be surprised. She must have no time to use her ready

wit. He had thought to wait until some reasonable plan offered itself for

trial; yet, here he was, with nothing definite or recognizable but the

fact that the craving to see her was not to be withstood. The blood began

to thunder in his ears. An idea presented itself. It appealed to him at

that moment as quite clever and feasible.