A little later, in the bath-room, she gazed about her in amusement and despair. Oh, for the cool, white tiles of her own chaste, little sanctuary! This one was Moorish in style, with a shallow bench running all around the sunken bath of turquoise tiles. A huge dolphin's head served as a faucet. As she turned the tap it spouted a crystal stream. She slid down into the water with a laugh. The glistening of goldfish outlined in mosaic upon the bottom of the tub had caught her eye. But her body, luminous in the bluish tint cast by the tiles, elongated beneath the rippled surface of the water, gave her a sensuous pleasure. Pink-tipped, the ivory hillocks of her breast thrust upwards. Slim flanks melted into shadow. She sighed luxuriantly. Dinner was served in the large, lunetted dining room. The refectory table was drawn up against the frescoed wall, and Anne and Alexis sat side by side upon a long bench. In a clinging, sleeveless gown of white velvet, a small knot of gardenias pinned against the red-gold of her hair, Anne's beauty made Alexis' brain reel. He longed for the meal to be over, so that he might have her all to himself. The gallant subservience of old Jules irritated him almost to a frenzy. This woman was his. The firm column of her throat, the gleaming pilasters of her arms. She was a temple, he the high priest. His alone the inner shrine. After an interminable agony, Jules brought coffee and left them. Anne was laughing softly. "I was remembering the bathroom," she said, in answer to his look of inquiry. "It demoralized me completely. Even to the stealing of some of Karzimova's bath salts. I usually hate a perfumed bath, but the mise en scène fairly shrieked for it. I hope I don't smell too strong?" He leaned so close that his flaring nostrils grazed her hair. "It is hard to tell where the gardenias begin and you end," he laughed excitedly. She encountered his flaming eyes with a little thrill of fear. "I felt more than ever like the heroine of 'Aphrodite,'" she continued moving away rather nervously. "Do you remember the famous bath?" His tension relaxed. "I hope the resemblance was not too accurate?" He laughed daringly. She blushed, and bending forward, chose a peach from the amber bowl in front of them. "What gorgeous fruit for December! You're an extravagant creature!" He helped himself to a sprawling bunch of black grapes. "Why shouldn't I be? I sold a bond the other day, and in six weeks I give my first recital. After that, as you know, my time is completely booked. Rosenfield is a slave-driver." "But he is a good manager. He's so enthusiastic about you." He shrugged indifferently. "I suppose so." "And do you really find it easier to practice here than in New York?"