her away
from the young American, who was completely taken aback. It was evident
that the delicate, exotic woman, whose breast rose and fell convulsively,
took pleasure in that strong conqueror's arm as they circled about in the
dance.

At the conclusion of the dance, he found himself under the necessity of
murdering French and English with her for a time and was very glad when
he could gracefully deliver her over again to the jealous young American.

Stoss was being transported across the deck by his valet, who, as always,
held him by his coat collar.

"My private overland and oversea express," he called to Frederick.

Frederick pulled up a steamer chair for him in a sudden impulse to chat
with Stoss.

"If the weather remains like this," said Stoss, after his valet had
carefully and skilfully seated him in the chair, "we can reach Hoboken
some time on Tuesday. But only if the weather does remain like this. The
captain tells me that when we are running under full steam, as now, we
make sixteen knots an hour."

Frederick started. So Tuesday this life under the same roof with Ingigerd
was to end.

Frederick had been profoundly humiliated by the coarse insult offered him
in the smoking-room. He knew of no other way to escape the impression of
it except by a sort of ostrich policy. For that reason he had passed over
the incident lightly when speaking to Doctor Wilhelm. Once his feeling of
delicacy, smarting like a sensitive nerve, had ceased to ache so
intensely, he looked upon the scandal much as a somnambulist would
look upon the thing that has awakened him and guarded him against a
humiliating fall. For more than half an hour his passion for the little
devil of a dancer had turned into disgust and repugnance, until now he
suddenly had to admit once again that separation from her was
inconceivable.

"That little dancer is a piquant wench," said Stoss, as if he had divined
Frederick's thoughts. "It would not seem at all strange to me if an
inexperienced man were to fall into her toils. I think she resembles one
of the younger Barrison sisters, who sing 'Linger Longer Lucy, Linger
Longer Loo.' A man must certainly don armour in dealing with her."

"I am completely at a loss to understand," lied Frederick, "how I ever
came to fall under suspicion with that creature. She is of absolutely no
interest to me."

"Good Lord, Doctor von Kammacher! Who doesn't fall under suspicion with
her?" He laughed unblushingly. "I