fference, his brutal
frankness, cut her to the quick.

But the Prince was not a man to pay more than passing heed to the
symptoms of a woman's gathering displeasure. By nature he was a
savage. To a certain extent he was susceptible to female beauty and
fascination, but deep down in his heart he had a profound contempt for
women, for their uncontrolled feelings, their little tricks of
sentiment, their abject subservience to their emotions.

"Things go well," he said, in his hard, level tones. "I trust we shall
not have to wait very long now. We held a very important meeting
to-night; it was prolonged beyond the hour I expected. That is why I
am late and could not get here in time to hear you sing."

The beautiful singer seemed but half appeased by this rather curt
apology. It confirmed what he had told her so often before, that
overwhelming ambition, the advancement of his political schemes, were
all powerful influences in his life; that a woman's devoted affection
weighed but as a feather in the scale against these.

"Let us talk of other things," she said, speaking in a tone of assumed
lightness.

"But I thought you took a great interest in these matters. At any rate
you have pretended to." His voice was hard and rasping, and there was
a sneer in it, an angry gleam in his eyes. He could not bear to be
crossed.

"At the proper time and place. But I don't choose to talk of just one
subject every moment we spend together. I am pleased, my friend, that
the prospects are so good. And now, for a few seconds, shall we talk
of those other things which are not quite so unimportant to the world
in general as they appear to you."

"And those other things?" inquired Zouroff in his surliest and most
repellant manner.

"Well, for example, we have just been listening to our new Director of
the Opera, Signor Corsini. He has played some very beautiful things;
he is a fine artist. Have you met him yet?"

Zouroff frowned heavily. "Yes, I have. The fellow played once at the
Embassy in London, and my mother and sister raved about him. You know
I am no judge of instrumental music--rather dislike it than otherwise.
And this young man seemed to me particularly objectionable."

"I wonder why?" inquired the _prima donna_ with a most innocent
expression. "Just because your mother and sister admired his genius?
What a very insufficient reason."

Zouroff vouchsafed no reply to this delicate raillery, and Madame
Quero continued in th