Never once had she looked at him in the Right Way; for to have
done so and to have evoked only that amused yet compassionate
smile would have meant hatred, and Zahara had been taught that
such hatred was fatal because it was a confession of defeat.

"I shall see you again to-night, shall I not?" he said as she
turned away.

"Oh, yes, I shall be--on show. I hope you will approve."

She tossed her head like a petulant child, turned, and with never
another glance in his direction, walked from the room. She was
very graceful, he thought.

Yet it was not entirely of this strange half-caste, whose beauty
was provoking, although he resolutely repelled her tentative
advances, that Grantham was thinking. In that last gesture when
she had scornfully tossed her head in turning aside, had lain a
bitter memory. Grantham stood for a moment watching the swaying
draperies. Then, dropping the end of his cigarette into a little
brass ash-tray, he took up his hat, gloves, and cane from the
floor, and walked toward the doorway through which he had
entered.

A bell rang somewhere, and Grantham paused. A close observer
might have been puzzled by his expression. Evidently changing
his mind, he crossed the room, opened the door and went out,
leaving the house of Agapoulos by a side entrance. Crossing the
little courtyard below he hurried in the direction of the main