except to look at his mistress and wonder what she's made of."

"What she's made of?" echoed Gervase in surprise. "Don't you think
she's made like other women?"

"No; can't say I do. She seems all fire and vapor and eyes in the
middle, don'cher know. Oh, I'm an ass--always was--but that's the
feeling she gives me. Ta-ta! Wish you a pleasant morning!"

He nodded and strolled away, and Gervase hesitated yet another
moment, looking full at the Nubian, who returned him stare for
stare.

"Maintenant?" he began.

"Oui, maintenant" echoed the Nubian.

"La Princesse, ou est elle?"

"La!" and the Nubian pointed down a long, dark passage beyond
which there seemed to be the glimmer of green palms and other
foliage. "Elle vous attend, Monsieur Armand Gervase! Entrez!
Suivez!"

Slowly Gervase passed in, and the great tomb-like door closed upon
him with a heavy clang. The whole long, bright day passed, and he
did not reappear; not a human foot crossed the lonely street and
nothing was seen there all through the warm sunshiny hours save
the long, black shadows on the pavement, which grew longer and
darker as the evening fell.