u think I am a
pagan. In France they have an impolite proverb, 'Stupid as a musician,'
but don't think it is true. We see harmony and melody in everything."

Apparently Potowski's lunacy had suggested something to Fairfax, for he
said seriously----

"Perhaps Mrs. Faversham will let me make a figure of her some day"--he
hesitated--"in the entirety," he quoted; and the words sounded madness,
tremendously personal, tremendously daring. "A figure of her standing in
a long cloak edged with fur, holding a little statuette in her hand."

"Charming," gurgled Potowski--he had a grape in his mouth which he had
culled unceremoniously from the fruit dish. "That is a very modern idea,
Rainsford, but I don't understand why she should hold a statuette in her
hand."

"For my part," said the hostess, "I only understand what I have been
taught. I am a common-place public, and I prefer a classic bas-relief, a
profile, just a little delicate study. Will you make it for me, Mr.
Rainsford?"

The new name he had chosen, and which was never real to him, sounded
pleasantly on her lips, and it gave him, for the first time, a
personality. His past was slipping from him; he glanced around the oval
room with its soft lights and its warm colouring. It glowed like a
beautiful setting for the pearl which was the lady. The dinner before
him was delicious. It ceased to be food--it was a delicate refreshment.
The perfume of the flowers and wines and the cooking was intoxicating.

"You eat and drink nothing," Mrs. Faversham said to him.

"No," exclaimed Potowski, sympathetically, peering across the table at
Rainsford. "You are suffering perhaps--you diet?"

Antony drank the champagne in his glass and said he was thinking of his
bas-relief.

Potowski, adjusting a single eye-glass in his eye, stared through it at
Rainsford.

"You should do everything in its entirety, Mr. Rainsford. Eat, drink,
sculpt and sing," and he swam out again gently toward Rainsford and Mrs.
Faversham, "and love."

Antony smiled on them both his radiant smile. "Ah, sir," he said, "is
not that just the thing it is hard for us all not to do? We mutilate the
rest, our art and our endeavours, but a young man usually once in his
life loves in entirety."

"I don't know," said the Pole thoughtfully, "I think perhaps not.
Sometimes it's the head, or the hands, or the figure, something we call
perfect or beautiful as long as it lasts, Mr. Rainsford, but if we loved
the entiret