who is so devotedly, so
hopelessly your slave as I."

She drew her hand away, and sat back in her corner. The man's hot
breath fell upon her cheek, his eyes seemed almost phosphorescent in the
darkness. Lucille could scarcely keep the biting words from her tongue.

"You do not answer me, Lucille. You do not speak even a single kind
word to me. Come! Surely we are old friends. We should understand one
another. It is not a great deal that I ask from your kindness--not a
great deal to you, but it is all the difference between happiness and
misery for me."

"This is a very worn-out game, Prince," Lucille said coldly. "You have
been making love to women in very much the same manner for twenty years,
and I--well, to be frank, I am utterly weary of being made love to
like a doll. Laugh at me as you will, my husband is the only man who
interests me in the slightest. My failure to-day is almost welcome to
me. It has at least brought my work here to a close. Come, Prince, if
you want to earn my eternal gratitude, tell me now that I am a free
woman."

"You give me credit," the Prince said slowly, "for great generosity. If
I let you go it seems to me that I shall lose you altogether. You will
go to your husband. He will take you away!"

"Why not?" Lucille asked. "I want to go. I am tired of London. You
cannot lose what you never possessed--what you never had the slightest
chance of possessing."

The Prince laughed softly--not a pleasant laugh, not even a mirthful
one.

"Dear lady," he said, "you speak not wisely. For I am very much in
earnest when I say that I love you, and until you are kinder to me I
shall not let you go."

"That is rather a dangerous threat, is it not?" Lucille asked. "You dare
to tell me openly that you will abuse your position, that you will
keep me bound a servant to the cause, because of this foolish fancy of
yours?"

The Prince smiled at her through the gloom--a white, set smile.

"It is no foolish fancy, Lucille. You will find that out before long.
You have been cold to me all your life. Yet you would find me a better
friend than enemy."

"If I am to choose," she said steadily, "I shall choose the latter."

"As you will," he answered. "In time you will change your mind."

The carriage had stopped. The Prince alighted and held out his hand.
Lucille half rose, and then with her foot upon the step she paused and
looked around.

"Where are we?" she exclaimed. "This is not Dorset House."

"