She showed him her teeth in a grin of savage complacency, and the subject seemed exhausted. Cosmo set himself the task to daunt her by a steady gaze. In less than two seconds he regretted his venture. He felt certain that she would not be the one to look away first. There was not the slightest doubt about that. In order to cover his retreat he let his eyes wander vaguely about the room, smiled agreeably, and said: "Your uncle is not here. Shall I have the pleasure of seeing him this evening?" "No," she said. "You won't see him this evening. But he knows you have been here this morning." This was, strictly speaking, news to Cosmo, but he said at once and with great indifference: "Why shouldn't he? Probably Madame de Montevesso has told him. I used to know your aunt when she was younger than you are, signorina." "How do you know how old I am?" Cosmo asked himself if she would ever wink those black eyes of hers. "I know that you are not a hundred years old." This struck her as humorous, because there was a sound as of a faint giggle which, generally speaking, is a silly kind of sound but in her case had a disturbing quality. It was followed by the hoarse declaration: "Aunt didn't. I told Uncle. I looked a lot at you in the morning. Why didn't you look at me?" "I was afraid of being indiscreet," said Cosmo readily, concealing his astonishment. "What silliness," she commented scornfully. "And this evening too! I was looking at you all the time and you did nothing but look at all those witches here, one after another." "I find all the ladies in the room perfectly charming," said Cosmo. "You lie. I suppose you do nothing else from morning till night." "I am sorry you have such a bad opinion of me, but it being what it is, hadn't I better go away?" "Directly I set eyes on you I knew you were one of that sort." "And did you impart your opinion of me to your uncle?" asked Cosmo. He could be no more offended with that girl than if she had been an unmannerly animal. Her peculiar stare remained unchanged but her general expression softened for a moment. "No. But I took care to tell him that you were a very handsome gentleman. . . . You are a very handsome gentleman." What surprised Cosmo was not the downright statement but the thought that flashed through his mind that it was as dreadful as being told that one was good to eat. For a time he stared without any thought of unwinking competition. He was not amused. Distinctly not. He asked: "Where were you born?" "How can I tell? In the mountains, I suppose. Somewhere where you will never go. How can it possibly concern you?" Cosmo offered his apology for his indiscretion, and she received it with a sort of uncomprehending scorn. She said after a pause: "None of those witches, young or old, ever speak to me. And even you didn't want to speak to me. You only spoke to me . . . Oh, no! I know why you spoke to me." "Why did I speak to you?" asked Cosmo thoughtfully. "Won't you tell me?"