"You are wearied with your duties, madame," conjectured Aksakoff, sipping with gusto; "and I, alas, can relieve you only by acting as waiter." "You are a guest now," she rejoined, with a nervous laugh; "is the tea to your liking?" "Most delightful tea," said Demetrius, courteously. "You compliment the decoction too highly. Tea on the Continent is like rain in the Sahara. I except Russia, of course," she ended, smiling. "You will find us English in many ways, when you visit Moscow, madame." Leah looked inquisitively at Aksakoff, who spoke, guessing that he was in possession of the truth, and wondering what he thought of the engagement. The man's face betrayed nothing, however, and her gaze travelled to Demetrius. He was sitting perfectly still, and his eyes looked dull, as though the fire of life was dwindling within. Meeting her smile, he roused himself with a jerk and an apology. "I feel sleepy--the heat, no doubt," he murmured. "I can't say that I feel scorching," said Askew, glancing through the window at a grey sky. "You are used to the tropics; M. Demetrius is not," observed Aksakoff. Joan laughed. "You remind me of a horrid story my brother told me. An old Anglo-Indian was being cremated at Woking, and said that it was the first time he had felt warm in England." "A horrid story indeed," murmured Lady Jim, with her eyes on the expressionless face of Demetrius. "You shouldn't tell it, dear." Then she rose hurriedly: "Are you quite well, M. Demetrius?" "Oh yes--quite"; the doctor's voice droned into an inarticulate mumble and his head fell forward. "Oh! Mr. Askew--M. Aksakoff--what it the matter? His eyes are closed; his breathing--just listen!" "Kind of fit, perhaps," said Askew, rising to shake Demetrius, and so extorted a cry from the kind-hearted hostess. "Don't--the man is ill! Oh, how dreadful! Loosen his collar--open the window. I wonder if he needs a doctor," and she stepped to the electric button of the bell. "There might be one in the hotel," said Aksakoff, as Joan and Askew obeyed her directions. And from the tone of his voice she knew that there was one in the hotel. "It really seems to be a kind of fit," said Aksakoff, looking at the now unconscious man. "Yet he appeared to be quite well a few minutes ago." Leah did not hear. She was already at the door issuing hurried instructions to a waiter, whose smile had vanished. When she came back the two men had placed Demetrius on the sofa, where he lay breathing heavily, his face white and his lips purple; not a pleasant sight by any means, as Askew thought. "Had not you ladies better retire?" he suggested. "No, no!" they cried in one breath. "We must help." "Only the doctor can do that--if there is one," said Aksakoff, observing his handiwork on the sofa with a critical eye.