seeing the
game played all around him day after day, as if he were a stick or a
stone, or one of the metal trappings of the car.

"Chawley" Hathaway looked unutterable things, and the little mouse-eyes
looked back unutterable things, with that lingering,
just-too-long-for-pardoning glance that a certain kind of men and women
employ when they want to loiter near the danger-line and toy with vital
things. An impressive hand-clasp, another long, languishing look, just a
shade longer this time; then he closed the door, lifted his hat at the
mouse-eyed goddess, and the limousine swept away. They had parted as if
something momentous had occurred, and both knew in their hearts that
neither had meant anything at all except to play with fire for an
instant, like children sporting at lighting a border of forest that has
a heart of true homes in its keeping.

Gila swept on in her chariot. The young man with whom she had played was
well skilled in the game. He understood her perfectly, as she him. If he
got burned sometimes it was "up to him." She meant to take good care of
herself.

Around another corner she spied another acquaintance. A word to the
automaton on the front seat and the limousine swept up to the curb where
he was passing. Gila leaned out with the sweetest bow. She was the
condescending lady now; no mouse-eyes in evidence this time; just a
beautiful, commanding presence to be obeyed. She would have him ride
with her, so he got in.

He was a tall, serious youth with credulous eyes, and she swept his
soulful nature as one sweeps the keys of a familiar instrument, drawing
forth time-worn melodies that, nevertheless, were new to him. And just
because he thrilled under them, and looked in her eyes with startled
earnestness, did she like to play upon his soul. It would have been a
bore if he had understood, for he was a dull soul, and young--ages young
for Gila, though his years numbered two more than hers. She liked to see
his eyes kindle and his breath come quick. Some day he would tell her
with impassioned words how much he loved her, and she would turn him
neatly and comfortably down for a while, till he learned his place and
promised not to be troublesome. Then he might join the procession again
as long as he would behave. But at present she knew she could sway him
as she would, and she touched the orchids at her belt with tender little
caressing movements and melting looks. Even before she reached home she
knew