“You would have sacrificed a great deal of gratification,” replied Minna. “How? We should have been alone.” “You would not have satisfied your vanity,” said Minna. “You know that very well.” He protested. He was burning with adoration. She was cruel, like all her countrywomen. “You have had enough good fortune for one day, I consider,” she said. “Ah, then, can I hope?” “That’s a thing forbidden to no one,” she replied, looking at him through her eyelashes. They had sat long over the meal. She expressed a desire for the outer air, and they strolled again together through the wonderful gardens. Behind them rose the great white palace of the casino, its marble balustrades and stairs and cupolas gleaming amidst the gorgeous vegetation. In front, the cobalt-blue Mediterranean meeting afar off the violet sky. On the left swept the fair Italian coast. On the right rose the black crag of Monaco, with its palace guarding the russet roofs of the little old town. Beneath them, terrace after terrace of greensward bedded with riotous profusion of flowers, broken by white parapets and flights of stairs. The scent of exotic flowers hung sensuously on the warm air. “It is intoxicating like wine, or your beauty,” said Boissy. Minna shrugged her shoulders and glanced idly round. “It’s a pretty place. But one gets tired of it, as of most things. What’s the time?” “Half-past two,” he replied, consulting his watch. Mrs. Delamere would be there by half-past four. Then she could dismiss Boissy, of whom she was growing weary. “Shall we sit down? One talks better.” He indicated a sheltered seat behind some great aloes, and led her thither. Minna commanded him to amuse her. “I am too much in love.” “Then tell me the history of your last grand passion.” “I have only had one in my life.” He began to plead. Somehow the charm of enticing him had palled. He was such a vulgar little creature. She had heard all he had to say scores of times. She craved originality. The sublime conceit of the man, who was growing earnestly amorous, moved her disdain. Unscrupulous and conscious of degradation as she was, she nevertheless set a great value on herself. So she found entertainment in scathing ridicule. At last he lost his temper, threw his arms roughly round her and kissed her. She struggled from him, revolted, and struck him with all her might in the face. The brutality of the debased Gaul was aroused. The crimson mark flared across a livid cheek. Mad with rage he seized her wrists. “Hallo!” said a sudden voice. “Drop that!” A great, huge-limbed Englishman, dressed in loose tweeds and a discoloured straw hat, stood before them. Boissy rose to his feet and struck an attitude. “Monsieur--” he began. But the new-comer took no notice of him. Instead, he looked with an air of startled recognition at Minna, and then lifted his hat. “Miss Hart, I believe.”