contain milk and water, it is at least my own."

"You dared me once before, Madame," he said, smiling provokingly. "Do
you think it is quite wise of you to try it again?"

"I do not care if it is wise or no. I hate you!" almost hissed poor
Tamara.

Then his eyes blazed, as she had never seen them yet. He moved nearer
to her, and spoke in a low concentrated voice.

"It is a challenge. Good. Now listen to what I say. In a little short
time you shall love me. That haughty little head shall lie here on my
breast without a struggle, and I shall kiss your lips until you cannot
breathe."

For the second time in her life Tamara went dead white--he saw her pale
even to her lips. And since the moment was not yet, and since his mood
was not now to make her suffer, he bent over with contrition and asked
her to forgive him in a tender voice.

"Madame--I am only joking--but I am a brute," he said.

Tamara rose and walked to the bridge tables, furious with herself that
he could have seen his power over her, even though it were only to
cause rage.

He came up behind her and sat down and began to talk nicely again--
about the sights to be seen in the capital, and the interesting
museums and collections of pictures and arms. Nothing could be more