Tamara buried her face in her pillows, she was too English to be
dramatic and sob; but when she spoke her soft voice trembled a little
and her eyes glistened with tears.

"He is horribly cruel, Marraine," she said.

"Why should he treat me as he does. I won't--I won't bear it."

The Princess sighed.

"Tamara, forgive me for asking you, but I must, I feel I must. Do you--
love him, child?"

Then passion flamed up in Tamara's white face, her secret was her own,
and she would defend it even from this kind friend--so--"I believe I
hate him!" she said.

After a while the Princess left her, they having come to the agreement
that Tamara should do all that she could to keep the peace; but when
she was alone she decided to speak to Gritzko as little as possible
herself, and to ignore him completely. There would be no Boris and no
one to make him jealous. She would occupy herself with Stephen Strong,
and the sight-seeing, and even Sonia's husband, who was a bore and old,
too; but the prospect held out no charms for her. She knew that she
loved him deeply--this wild, fierce Gritzko--more deeply than ever
today, and the tears, one after another, trickled down her pale cheeks.

If there was not a chance of any happiness, at least she must go home
keeping some rag of self-respect. She firmly determined that he should
not see the slightest feeling on her side, it should be restrained or