"I would like those brands of me to last forever," the Prince said.


Tamara lay back in the chair a prey to tumultuous emotions. She ought
to be disgusted she supposed, and of course she was--such an
uncivilized horrible thought! but at the same time every nerve was
tingling and her pulse was beating with the strange thrills she had
only lately begun to dream of.

"Tamara! By jove! What have you done to your neck?" Jack Courtray said,
as he came up.

And Tamara was glad she had a gauze scarf over her arm, which she
wrapped around carelessly as she said:

"Nothing, Jack--let's dance!"

"What an awfully decent chap our host is, isn't he!" Lord Courtray
said, as they ambled along in their valse. "And jolly good-looking
too--for a foreigner. These Russians are men after my own heart!"

"Yes, he is good-looking," admitted Tamara. "If he weren't so wild; but
don't you think he has a frightfully savage expression, Jack?"

"If you are intending to play with him, old girl, take my advice, you
had better look out," and he laughed his merry laugh as they stopped
because the piano stopped.

Meanwhile the Prince had left the room.