with the air of a connoisseur:

"It is a fine piece of work."

And, counting upon covering his retreat with this compliment, he made
for the door with shoulders drooped; but Felicia detained him abruptly.

"Stay, you. I have something to say to you."

He saw clearly from her look that he would have to yield, on pain of an
explosion.

"You will excuse me, _cher ami_? Mademoiselle has a word for me. My
brougham is at the door. Get in. I will be with you immediately."

As soon as the door of the studio had closed on that heavy, retreating
foot, each of them looked at the other full in the face.

"You must be either drunk or mad to have allowed yourself to behave in
this way. What! you dare to enter my house when I am not at home? What
does this violence mean? By what right--"

"By the right of a despairing and incurable passion."

"Be silent, Jenkins, you are saying words that I will not hear. I allow
you to come here out of pity, from habit, because my father was fond of
you. But never speak to me again of your--love"--she uttered the word in
a very low voice, as though it were shameful--"or you shall never see me
again, even though I should have to kill myself in order to escape you
once and for all."

A child caught in mischief could not bend its head more humbly than did
Jenkins, as he replied:

"It is true. I was in the wrong. A moment of madness, of blindness--But
why do you amuse yourself by torturing my heart as you do?"

"I think of you often, however."

"Whether you think of me or not, I am there, I see what goes on, and
your coquetry hurts me terribly."

A touch of red mounted to her cheeks at this reproach.

"A coquette, I? And with whom?"

"With that," said the Irishman, indicating the ape-like and powerful
bust.

She tried to laugh.

"The Nabob? What folly!"

"Don't tell an untruth about it now. Do you think I am blind, that I
do not notice all your little manoeuvres? You remain alone with him for
very long at a time. Just now, I was there. I saw you." He dropped his
voice as though breath had failed him. "What do you want, strange and
cruel child? I have seen you repulse the most handsome, the most noble,
the greatest. That little de Gery devours you with his eyes; you take no
notice. The Duc de Mora himself has not been able to reach your heart.
And it is that man there who is ugly, vulgar, who had no thought of you,
whose head is full of quite other matters than love. You saw how h