's lips to be one beyond his powers of rejection. "Don't get
wild, kiddie," he said softly. "You need not be cruel."

"Let me go," repeated Flamby in a low voice.

He held her closer and his face almost touched hers. Whereupon the storm
burst. "Are you going to let me go?" said Flamby breathlessly; and even
as she spoke James sought to touch her lips. Flamby raised her open hand
and struck him hard upon the cheek. "_Now_ will you let me go!"

Orlando James laughed loudly. "You lovely little devil," he cried. "I
shall kiss you a hundred times for that."

Backward swung Flamby's foot and James received a shrewd kick upon his
shin. But the little suede shoes which Flamby wore were incapable of
inflicting such punishment as those heavy boots which once had wrought
the discomfiture of Fawkes. James threw both arms around her and lifted
her bodily, as one lifts a child, smiling into her face. She battled
against him, hand and foot, but could strike with slight force because
of her helpless position. He crushed her to him and kissed her on the
lips. As he did so she remembered the form of her French shoes and
raising her right foot she battered madly at his knee with the high
wooden heel. One of the blows got home, and uttering a smothered curse
James dropped her, but did not release her.

"You low dirty swine!" she cried at him.

He held her by her arms and now she suddenly twisted violently, writhed
and wrenched herself free, leaving a velvet sleeve in James's grasp and
leaping back from him, one creamy shoulder bared by the tattered gown
and her wonderful hair loosened and foaming about her head to lend her
the aspect of a beautiful Bisharin girl, wild as the desert gazelle.
James saw that she wore an antique gold locket upon a thin chain about
her neck. He clutched at her, but she bounded back again, her eyes
blazing dangerously and snatched up the Japanese cabinet. With all her
strength she hurled it at his head.

"Take that," she screamed, flushing scarlet--"blast you!"

He ducked, inhaling sibilantly, but a corner of the little cabinet
struck his forehead, and he stumbled, caught his foot against a cushion
and fell across the table amid a litter of china and silver ware. He
clutched at the draped picture, and canvas and easel fell crashing to
the floor, revealing the nearly completed _Circassian_. Flamby sprang
across the studio, wrenched open the door and ran out banging it behind
her. As it closed she fell bac