e's engaged, _fiance_, you know, to a girl in England, but I don't
think he loves her very much. I think he is beginning to like a friend
of mine, Evanthia. Did you go to the cinema last night?"

"Oh, yes, yes. It was beautiful. I love the American pictures, cowboys.
They shot the police dead. And in the end the girl had a baby."

"But wasn't she married first, dear?" asked the sick lady, laughing.

"Oh, yes. It was beautiful," answered Evanthia dreamily. "Very, very
beautiful. They ride and shoot all the time, in America."

"And have babies," added Mrs. Dainopoulos.

"No!" said Evanthia with startling lucidity. "Fridthiof has been there."

"I thought you had forgotten him, dear. You know I think he was not a
good influence for you."

Evanthia murmured, "Ah, yes," and smiled.

"I don't think he always told you the truth. I am afraid he made things
up to tell you."

"I think he is gone to Athens."

"Why?"

"I speak to the old Anna Karoglou who sweep in the Consulate. She hear
the Consul's wife say she has a sister in Athens."

Mrs. Dainopoulos was not prepared to accept this as conclusive evidence,
though she knew these illiterate people had their own mysterious news
agencies.

"Well," she said, "_you_ can't go to Athens just now, can you?"

"The Englishman will get me a passport," answered Evanthia. "He said he
would get one."

"Did he though? That's very kind of him."

"Yes, he will do anything for me, anything."

"Have you sent word to your mother? I feel responsible for you, Evanthia
dear."

"Oh, I come back," said the girl airily, "I come back."

"I don't believe you will," said Mrs. Dainopoulos gravely. "I don't
believe you will."

"Yes, yes. Come back to my dear friend."

She did too, later on, very much damaged. She arrived in a crowded train
of horse-cars, her clothes in a crushed old basket and a refugee ticket
fastened to her blouse with a huge brass safety pin. She did not dwell
on her adventures. So many women were going through very much the same
thing. And Mr. Dainopoulos by that time was too rich and too busy
getting richer to bother about a stray like her, and he did not ask. To
the end it remained an impalpable grievance with her that she made no
impression upon her dear friend's husband.

She jumped up now, and, kissing Mrs. Dainopoulos, hastened away to see
to the evening meal. Downstairs, standing in the doorway of the dining
room, she caught the young girl putting some ca