On this particular morning a young man was sitting alone in the Loggia of the villa. Westward, through one of the open arches, he gazed upon the deep, blue waters of the Adriatic, far down below. Small boats, with sails of various colors, floated here and there, like lazy butterflies. The man was reclining in an easy chair like an invalid--which he was. Bandages encased his throat. A bullet through his neck, two months ago, would explain these bandages. It was the price he paid for striking an Austrian officer across the mouth. The Austrian officer had made an offensive remark concerning the Diva. The young American was a good shot and in the duel, three days later, he sent a bullet through his adversary's chest. It so happened that the Austrian, being also a good shot, sent a corresponding missile through the young American's neck. Then the Diva and her defender had fled to this villa; not together, but separately, to escape the Breath of Scandal. Here, in this ideal nest, they found peace and privacy. Not under their own names. Ah, no! If the lady's identity were suspected the thrilling news would have circled the globe. One cannot be an opera singer of world-wide fame and suddenly become obscure. The Diva's Italian friends and the public believed that she was rusticating somewhere, with relatives. The American's friends in Paris had heard about the duel, but knew nothing of his whereabouts. So, alone and happy, here on this Istrian hillside, they laughed at Mrs. Grundy, and lived and loved at leisure. And what sweeter victory than looking down from a perch of safety upon the world below where the Breath of Scandal spared neither the guilty nor the innocent? Kind providence had so managed that the Diva's immediate family was not inquisitive. It consisted solely of her father, a famous scientist, whose portrait, with its high forehead, shaggy hair and drowsy eyes was a familiar face to Italian students. So absorbed he was in study and experiment that the adventures of his yet more famous daughter caused him no uneasiness. Had the Breath of Scandal entered his laboratory, it would have been ignored--or ejected as a liar. The Diva's husband--known as "The Calamity" by her friends--a handsome gentleman of noble family, had long since become immune to the Breath of Scandal--so well encased in his disrepute that he could sink no further. He and the Breath of Scandal were boon companions. At present he held a government position in Siam. Three years he had been there, and might remain for ten years more. So, at the cozy Istrian villa were no jealous eyes to disturb a lover's dream.