He closed his eyes to picture Mademoiselle Kayser, to inhale the atmosphere, to enjoy something of the perfume surrounding her. A danger! Guy was perhaps right. The best love is that which is never gathered, which remains immature, like a blossom in spring that never becomes a fruit. Lord Lindsay's despatch arrived seasonably. It was a chance or a warning. In any case, what would Rosas risk by passing a few days in London, and losing the burning of that kiss? The sea-breezes would perhaps efface it. "I am certainly feverish," the duke thought. "It was assuredly necessary to speak to Lissac. It was also necessary to speak to her," he added, in a dissatisfied, anxious, almost angry tone. A danger! Lissac had acted imprudently in uttering that word, which addressed to such a man as Rosas, had something alluring about it. What irritated the duke was Guy's reply, asserting that he had not been Marianne's lover, but that Marianne had had other lovers. Others? What did Lissac know of this? A species of jealous frenzy was blended with the feverish desire that Marianne's kiss had injected into Rosas's veins. He would have liked to know the truth, to see Marianne again, to urge Guy to further confidences. And, then, he felt that he would rather not have come, not have seen her again, not have gone to Sabine's. "Well, so be it! Lord Lindsay is right, I will go." The following morning, Guy de Lissac found in his mail a brief note, sealed with the arms of the duke, with the motto: _Hasta la muerte_. Jose wrote to him as he was leaving Paris: "You are perhaps right. I am a little intoxicated with _Parisine_. I am going to London to visit a friend and if I ever recount my voyages there, it will only be to the serious-minded members of the Geographical Society. There, at least, there is no 'danger.' With many thanks and until we meet again. "Your friend, "J. DE R----" "Plague on it," said Lissac, who read the letter three times, "but our dear duke is badly bitten! _Ohime!_ Marianne Kayser has had a firm and sure tooth this time!--We shall see!--" he added, as he broke the seal of another letter, containing a request for a loan on the part of someone richer than himself. VII The soiree at Sabine Marsy's had caused Vaudrey to feel something like the enervation that follows intoxication. The next morning he awoke with his head heavy, after a night of feverish sleep, interrupted by sudden starts, wherein he saw that pretty, fair girl standing before him devouring sherbet and smiling gayly.