"Now I see it all!" she continued, as if suddenly enlightened. "Of course, such presents are quite in order as mementoes when young ladies of the chorus are entertained by you. But you weren't sure of me? You wanted to know if I would take it! For, of course, that would simplify things, wouldn't it?" "Do you regret giving it away?" he said, convinced, watching her with his connoisseur gaze. She stopped. "That is insulting!" she said, so simply that he never again recurred to the subject. "Now, Mr. Sassoon, I am going to play fair with you. I always do--at first. I am not like other girls. I do play fair. I give one warning--one only--and then, take the consequences!" "And what is your warning, pretty child?" he said, with a faint echo of excitement in his voice. "You will lose your time!" she said, dropping him a curtsy. "You wish to know what I am? I won't give you the slightest hint! I may be a desperate adventuress, or I may be a pretty child; but I tell you frankly, now--once only--you had better take your hat and go! You won't?" He shook his head stubbornly. "Very well! You will regret it! Only, be _very_ careful what you say to me, and how you say it. Do you understand?" "And you will lunch with me to-morrow?" "Yes!" "Why?" "Two reasons--to tantalize you, and because I am the most curious little body in the world! There! That's quite frank!" She glanced at the clock, which had gone well past the hour. "Now I must be off--I shall be late, as it is!" He glanced, in turn, at his watch. "And I've been keeping a board of directors cursing me for half an hour--very important board," he said, grinning at the thought of their exasperation if they should be privileged to see the cause of his delay. "Really?" she exclaimed, delightfully flattered. "Then you can keep them waiting some more! Your car's here? Very well; take me up to the Temple Theater, stage entrance." It was not in his plan thus publicly to accompany her. Not that he cared about his ghost of a reputation! But to arrive thus at a stage entrance, dancing attendance on a little Salamander, savored too much of the débutant, the impressionable and gilded cub. To another woman he would have refused peremptorily, with short excuse, packing her off in the automobile, and going on foot to his destination. But with Miss Baxter he had a feeling that she would exact it, and a fear that somehow she was waiting an excuse to slip from him, a fear of losing her. "I am waiting!" she said impatiently. "What for?" he asked, coming abruptly out of his abstraction. "For you to hand me in, Pasha!" He gave her his hand hurriedly, capitulated and took his seat in turn. She guessed his reasons, and watched him mockingly, sunk in her corner. The melancholy and the weakness of yesterday were gone; she was again the gay little Salamander, audacious and reckless, sublimely confident in the reserves of her imagination to extricate her from any peril.