A little tremor thrilled through her tired body. "No, Alexis, you don't understand. Not in this room. Not here," she pleaded against his ear. "I--I can't bear this room." Taken by surprise, he released her and regarded her in dejected astonishment. "Why, Anne, do you dislike it as much as all that? Does it really make you unhappy?" She nodded. "Why, darling, if I had only known that, I should never have put you here. Of course, it's a bit rococo, I admit, but on the other hand, I didn't feel any of the others were good enough for you." "Oh, yes, they are." She nodded with renewed vigor. "If you want me to forget last night, give me another room, Alexis. Something wholesome and simple. Free of associations with Karzimova. Is there anything in the house like that?" He looked at her with reverence. Beneath each new leaf that this woman unfolded her heart showed more undefiled. Bursting with tenderness, he touched his lips to her hand like a worshipper. "Of course there is a room like that, dearest and best. A room that will just suit you. Its walls are painted a soft yellow. The chintzes are gay, and the sun pours in at the windows all day long. With it goes a white tiled bathroom of impeccable respectability." They laughed gayly. She sat up and clapped her hands. "Just what I want. The chaste, white tiles of the great American middle classes are good enough for me. I will get up immediately and dress, and then you can help me move my things." He looked at her with passionate protest. "Must you dress?" "Of course!" She slipped a slim white leg out of the bed and pulled the sheer black negligee down over it quickly. With the swiftness of a hawk, he swooped down upon her foot and kissed it. His lips brushed across the curving instep, the adorable little hollow of the arch. Then he placed it upon his head with a flourish. "A slave passes beneath the triumphal arch, oh Queen!" "Stop it this minute! You are tickling me, monster!" She drew her foot put of the curly hair with a slight shiver, only to have him snatch it once more to his lips. "What makes your heel so pink? Do you rouge it?" He looked up at her with an impertinent grin. A twinkle in her eye, she shook her head vigorously. "Of course not." "Is it just natural for it to be so wonderful? And the little toes so pink and cunning, too?" Her polished toe-nails gleamed rosily up at him. He put on her black satin mule lingeringly. "Now give me the other foot." She held it out with a low laugh. "Same ceremony, lest it should feel slighted!" "Now you must go this minute," she stood up and gave him a little push. He adopted an injured air. "I'm going to stay and help you dress." "No you're not, my friend." Her smile was determined. "Out you go this moment." Slipping her arm in his, she led him to the door. His cheeks flushed hotly, he made a desperate attempt to embrace her, but she eluded him nimbly.