wonderful mandarin robe decorated with the figures of peacocks;
upward again to a little bejewelled hand which held the robe
confined about the slender figure of Zahara, and upward to where,
sideways upon a bare shoulder peeping impudently out from Chinese
embroidery, rested the half-mocking and half-serious face of the
girl.

"Hallo!" he said, smiling, "I didn't hear you come in."

"I walk very soft," explained Zahara, "because I am not supposed
to be here."

She looked at him quizzically. "I don't see you for a long
time," she added, and in the tone of her voice there was a
caress. "I saw you more often in Port Said than here."

"No," replied Grantham, "I have been giving Agapoulos a rest.
Besides, there has been nobody worth while at any of the hotels
or clubs during the last fortnight."

"Somebody worth while coming to-night?" asked Zahara with
professional interest.

At the very moment that she uttered the words she recognized her
error, for she saw Grantham's expression change. Yet to her
strange soul there was a challenge in his coldness and the joy of
contest in the task of melting the ice of this English reserve.

"Lots of money," he said bitterly; "we shall all do well to-
night."