led so snug and so warm? It is charming to be a
gypsey, Velasco. Are you glad I came to you, or are you sorry? That
night, do you remember the violets? I flung them straight at your feet!
I wasn't a boy then, but I threw straight. Velasco, listen--I--I care
for you--but don't--kiss me!"

"Kaya--Kaya!"

"Hush! Shut your eyes! Put your head back in the straw and go to sleep.
When it is time for the dance I will wake you. I will sit here close
beside you and watch, as you watched over me. Shut your eyes, Velasco."

"Won't you--Kaya?"

"Go to sleep, Velasco--hush!"

"If I shut my eyes--will you?"

"Hush!"

The sun-beams danced on the dusty floor and the light came dimly through
the cobwebs. Velasco lay with his arm under his head, his young limbs
stretched in the straw, asleep. He murmured and tossed uneasily. There
was a flush on his face; his dark hair fell over his brows and teased
him, and he flung it back, half unconscious.

Kaya covered him with the blanket, kneeling beside him in the straw. She
moved without rustling, drawing it in softly, and smoothing the straw
with her fingers.

"It is my fault that he is lying here in a loft," she whispered low to
herself, "He does it for me! His hands have been frozen--for me! They
were so white, and firm, and supple; and now--they are scratched and
swollen!"

She gave a frightened glance about the loft, and then bent over him,
holding back a fold of the blanket.

"He is asleep!" she breathed, "He will never know!"

She stooped low with her golden head and kissed his hands one after the
other, lightly, swiftly, pressing her lips to the scratches. He murmured
again, tossing uneasily; and she fell backwards in the straw, gazing at
him, with her arms locked over her breast and her heart throbbing madly.

"No--he is asleep!" she said, "He is fast asleep! Another hour, and then
in the dusk I will wake him. He will play for the dancing--Velasco! The
greatest violinist in all Russia--he will play for the peasants to dance!"

She gave a little sob, half smothered. "It was wicked," she said,
"unpardonable! I didn't know then--how could I know? If I had
known!--God, save him! Give him back his life and his art that he has
given to me. Give it all back to him, and let me suffer alone the curse
of the Cross--the curse of the--Cross! Make me strong to resist him!
Ah, Velasco--!"

She was sobbing through her clenched teeth; staring at him, stretchin