“Liar!” she repeated, and her voice had something of a soothing whisper. “I say to you, be so careful that you go not too far--with me! I do what I do, not because I am a poor fool”... “It's funny,” declared Gianapolis, an emotional catch in his voice--“it's damn funny for you--for YOU--to adopt these airs with me! Why, you went to Olaf van”... “Stop!” cried the girl furiously, and sprang at him panther-like so that he fell back again in confusion, stumbled and collapsed upon a divan, with upraised, warding arms. “You Greek rat! you skinny Greek rat! Be careful what you think to say to me--to ME! to ME! Olaf van Noord--the poor, white-faced corpse-man! He is only one of Said's mummies! Be careful what you think to say to me... Oh! be careful--be very careful! It is dangerous of any friend of--MR. KING”... Gianapolis glanced at her furtively. “It is dangerous of anyone in a house of--MR. KING to think to make attachments,”--she hissed the words beneath her breath--“outside of ourselves. MR. KING would not be glad to hear of it... I do not like to tell it to MR. KING”... Gianapolis rose to his feet, unsteadily, and stretched out his arms in supplication. “Mahara!” he said, “don't treat me like this! dear little Mahara! what have I done to you? Tell me!--only tell me!” “Shall I tell it in English?” asked the Eurasian softly. Her eyes now were nearly closed; “or does it worry you that I speak so ugly”... “Mahara!”... “I only say, be so very careful.” He made a final, bold attempt to throw his arms about her, but she slipped from his grasp and ran lightly across the room. “Go! hurry off!” she said, bending forward and pointing at him with her fan, her eyes widely opened and blazing--“but remember--there is danger! There is Said, who creeps silently, like the jackal”... She opened the ebony door and darted into the corridor beyond, closing the door behind her. Gianapolis looked about him in a dazed manner, and yet again applied his handkerchief to his stinging eyes. Whoever could have seen him now must have failed to recognize the radiant Gianapolis so well-known in Bohemian society, the Gianapolis about whom floated a halo of mystery, but who at all times was such a good fellow and so debonair. He took up his hat and gloves, turned, and resolutely strode to the door. Once he glanced back over his shoulder, but shrugged with a sort of self-contempt, and ascended to the top of the steps.