at her with some interest," said Contarini, smiling in a
self-satisfied way. "I am bound to say, with all modesty, that she also
looked at me," he added, passing his white hand over his thick hair.

"Of course," put in Foscari gravely. "Any woman would, I should think."

"I suppose so," answered Contarini complacently. "It is not my fault if
they do."

"Nor your misfortune," added Fosoari, with as much gravity as before.

Zuan Venier had not joined in the banter, which seemed to him to be of
the most atrocious taste. He had liked Zorzi and had just made up his
mind to go to Murano the next day and find him out.

On that evening there was not so much as a mention of what was supposed
to bring them together. Before they had talked a quarter of an hour,
some one began to throw dice on the table, playing with his right hand
against his left, and in a few moments the real play had begun.

High up in Arisa's room the Georgian woman and Aristarchi heard all that
was said, crouching together upon the floor beside the opening the slave
had discovered. When the voices were no longer heard except at rare
intervals, in short exclamations of satisfaction or disappointment, and
only the regular rattling and falling of the dice broke the silence, the
pair drew back from the praying-stool.

"They will say nothing more to-night," whispered Arisa. "They will play
for hours."

"They had not said a word that could put their necks in danger,"
answered Aristarchi discontentedly. "Who is this fellow from the
glass-house, of whom they were speaking?"

Arisa led him away to a small divan between the open windows. She sat
down against the cushions at the back, but he stretched his bulk upon
the floor, resting his head against her knee. She softly rubbed his
rough hair with the palm of her hand, as she might have caressed a cat,
or a tame wild animal. It gave her a pleasant sensation that had a
thrill of danger in it, for she always expected that he would turn and
set his teeth into her fingers.

She told him the story of the last meeting, and how Zorzi had been made
one of the society in order that they might not feel obliged to kill him
for their own safety.

"What fools they are!" exclaimed Aristarchi with a low laugh, and
turning his head under her hand.

"You would have killed him, of course," said Arisa, "if you had been in
their place. I suppose you have killed many people," she added
thoughtfully.

"No," he answered, for t