explained how it was that her visit could not be an
altogether unexpected event to Madame de S--.

"Ah! Peter Ivanovitch brought you an invitation. How was I to know? A
_dame de compangnie_ is not consulted, as you may imagine."

The shabby woman laughed a little. Her teeth, splendidly white and
admirably even, looked absurdly out of place, like a string of pearls on
the neck of a ragged tramp. "Peter Ivanovitch is the greatest genius of
the century perhaps, but he is the most inconsiderate man living. So if
you have an appointment with him you must not be surprised to hear that
he is not here."

Miss Haldin explained that she had no appointment with Peter Ivanovitch.
She became interested at once in that bizarre person.

"Why should he put himself out for you or any one else? Oh! these
geniuses. If you only knew! Yes! And their books--I mean, of course, the
books that the world admires, the inspired books. But you have not been
behind the scenes. Wait till you have to sit at a table for a half a day
with a pen in your hand. He can walk up and down his rooms for hours and
hours. I used to get so stiff and numb that I was afraid I would lose my
balance and fall off the chair all at once."

She kept her hands folded in front of her, and her eyes, fixed on Miss
Haldin's face, betrayed no animation whatever. Miss Haldin, gathering
that the lady who called herself a _dame de compangnie_ was proud of
having acted as secretary to Peter Ivanovitch, made an amiable remark.

"You could not imagine a more trying experience," declared the lady.
"There is an Anglo-American journalist interviewing Madame de S-- now,
or I would take you up," she continued in a changed tone and glancing
towards the staircase. "I act as master of ceremonies."

It appeared that Madame de S-- could not bear Swiss servants about
her person; and, indeed, servants would not stay for very long in the
Chateau Borel. There were always difficulties. Miss Haldin had already
noticed that the hall was like a dusty barn of marble and stucco with
cobwebs in the corners and faint tracks of mud on the black and white
tessellated floor.

"I look also after this animal," continued the _dame de compagnie_,
keeping her hands folded quietly in front of her; and she bent her
worn gaze upon the cat. "I don't mind a bit. Animals have their rights;
though, strictly speaking, I see no reason why they should not suffer as
well as human beings. Do you? But of course they n