persisted when I turned the pages of my opera now, and the magic of the master's poetry was gone. I could not forget his domination of the figure--I wanted to think of the beautiful statue freed, aloof from him!" He had left the window, and was moving restlessly about the room. Intent, her face propped by her hands, the model for the statue sat and watched him. The cigarette between her lips was out. "The fact that there must have been a model for it was borne upon me quite suddenly. It had the thrill of a revelation, and nearly dazed me. This woman lived! Somewhere in the world she was walking, speaking! It was as if a miracle had happened, as if the statue had come to life. I repeated breathlessly that it was true, but it appeared fabulous. I had attributed emotions to the marble figure with ease--to grasp the simple truth of the woman's existence was inconceivably difficult. I trembled with the marvel of it; Pygmalion was not more stupefied than I. When my heart left off pounding so hard, I began to question how long it would take me to discover who she was. I did not even know the way to set about it. But I knew that if she was in France I meant to find her.... I need not talk about the rest." After a silence Gaby stirred and spoke: "It was a triumph to pose for the statue--your story makes me very proud." "I could not avoid telling it to you," answered the young man drearily. "But how you say it--as if you had done wrong! Shall I tell you what would have been wrong? Not to let me know. That would have been pathetic. Mon Dieu! it would be atrocious for a woman to have done all that and never to hear. And to think that at the beginning I fancied you were----You were so quiet while we dined." "I was listening to you," he sighed. "That's true. You were entitled to it by then--you had done much to get the chance!" "Yes, I had done much to get the chance." "It was beautiful of you. I mean it. Because you have spoken earnestly, from your heart, and I could see--I could see very well that what you were saying was true, that you were not exaggerating to please me. Oh, I am moved, believe me, I am really moved!" She put out her hand to him impulsively, and he took it, as in duty bound. But he did not raise it to his lips. Her body stiffened a little as the hand drooped slowly to her lap. A shade of apprehension aged her face. Again there was silence. "Well?" she murmured. "Well?" "Enfin, when you sought the chance, when you wrote to me at last, you foresaw--what?" "Infinitely less than you have granted, mademoiselle," he returned, with an obvious effort. "A briefer meeting, a more formal one. I thank you most gratefully for your patience, your kindness, the honour you have done me." She gave a harsh laugh. "And now you 'regret that you must say good night'?" "It is a fact that I have to see my man again this evening," he acknowledged hurriedly, glancing at his watch. "I had forgotten the time."