"How dare you make me so nervous, sitting there like a log! I won't stand for such treatment--you Bear!" "Then sit down. Why do you have that Turk with you at all?" "He is not a Turk; he's an Englishman and a friend of mine. Why, he is the brother of your precious John Ardayre--and they have behaved shamefully to him, poor dear boy." She was still enraged. "He is not even a pure Turk--some of them are gentlemen. He is just the scum of the earth, and no blood relation to John Ardayre." "He will let them know whether he is or not some day! I hear that your bit of bread and butter is going to have a child, and as Ferdie says it can't be John's, I suppose it is yours!" Verisschenzko's face looked dangerous. "You would do well to guard your words, Harietta. I do not permit you to make such remarks to me--and it would be more prudent if you warned your friend that he had better not make such assertions either--do you understand?" Harietta felt some twinge of fear at the strange tone in the Russian's voice, but she was too out of temper to be cowed now. "Puh!" and she tossed her head. "If the child is a boy Ferdie will have something to say--and as for Amaryllis--I hate her! I'd like to kill her with my own hands." Verisschenzko rose and stood before her--and there was a look in his eyes which made her suddenly grow cold. "Listen," he said icily. "I have warned you once and you know me well enough to decide whether I ever speak lightly. I warn you again to be careful of your words and your deeds. I shall warn you no more--if you transgress a third time--then I will strike." Harietta grew pale to her painted lips. How would he strike? Not with a stick as Hans would have done, but in some much more deadly way. She changed her manner instantly and began to laugh. "Darling Brute!" Verisschenzko knew that he had alarmed her sufficiently, so he sat down in his chair again and lit a cigarette calmly--then he sniffed the air. "Your mongrel friend uses the same perfume as Stanislass' mistress!" "Stanislass' mistress?" she had forgotten for the moment. "Yes--don't you remember we burnt his scented handkerchief the last time we met, because we did not like her taste in perfumes?" Harietta's ill humour rose again; she was annoyed that she had forgotten this incident. Her instinct of self-preservation usually preserved her from committing any such mistakes. She felt that it was now advisable to become cajoling; also there was something in the face of Verisschenzko and his fierceness which aroused renewed passion in her--it was absurd to waste time in quarrelling with him when in an hour Stanislass might be coming in, so she went over behind his chair and smoothed back his thick dark hair. "You know that I adore you, darling Brute!" "Of course--" he did not even turn his head towards her. "Have you had your heart's desire here in England?" "Before this stupid war came--yes--now I'm through with it. I'm for Paris again."