nd fierce jealousy. His eyes fascinated her, but it
was the fascination of dread; and, indeed, his appearance was not
pleasant to look upon. His thin form seemed dilated with nervous
passion, and his eyes were on fire. Suddenly he conquered himself, and,
with the swiftness of lightning across the water, the fierceness died
out of his face, leaving it pale almost to ghastliness in the moonlight.
He half rose from his seat, and, lifting his hat, bowed low.

She answered his salutation timidly, and touched her companion on the
arm. She, too, started as she saw that dark, thin figure gazing so
steadfastly upon them, and her first impulse seemed to be to approach
him. She stopped short on the promenade, and though there was a certain
amount of apprehension in her dark eyes, there was also some pleasure,
and her lips were parted in a half-welcoming, half-inviting smile. But
he did not make any advance toward her; on the contrary, with a slight
and almost imperceptible gesture, he motioned them to proceed. With a
little wave of the hand, she obeyed him, and he resumed his seat,
drawing his hat over his eyes, and no longer watching the stream of
promenaders.

The Englishman, absorbed in his own sudden passion, had seen nothing out
of the common in the brief interchange of glances between the trio. All
that he noticed was that his companion had saluted the taller of the two
girls, and that she had acknowledged the salutation. It was quite enough
for him.

He leaned over the low palisade, watching her until she disappeared
among the crowd, scarcely daring to hope that she might look back, and
yet determined to lose no opportunity of a farewell glance should she do
so. When she was finally out of sight, he drew a long breath and turned
toward his companion.

"Who is she?" he asked abruptly.

"I fear that I do not quite understand you," he said quietly, although
his voice and limbs were trembling with passion; "to whom do you
allude?"

"The girl in white who passed just now. You knew her! Tell me her name!"

"Why should I?"

"I wish to know it."

The Sicilian lit his cigarette. He was growing calmer, but the fingers
which held the match were still shaking.

"Possibly. But that is no reason why I should tell it to you. That lady
is a friend of mine, certainly, but it is not the custom in my country,
however it may be in yours, to bandy a lady's name about a public
place."

"But I am not asking out of curiosity," the o