Part 29 (1/2)

Its white light led them back into harbour, and in its flood the two walked to the hotel together.

In the garden Le Breton paused to take leave of his hostess.

”Just one kiss, Heart's Ease, for the sake of last night,” he whispered.

Willingly Pansy lifted her flower-like face to his.

”Just one then, Raoul, you darling, since you've been so nice about everything.”

As Le Breton stooped to kiss her it seemed to him that he would not have to resort to force in order to get the girl. Only a little patience and persuasion were needed, and he would win her in her own, white, English way.

CHAPTER XVI

Along the deserted corridor of the big hotel Pansy was hurrying. Her outing with Le Breton had made her late. By the time she was dressed and ready dinner was well started. She went along quickly, still thinking over the events of the day.

Everything had turned out exactly as she had hoped. She wanted to keep Le Breton's love, and yet not be tied in any way--to have him in the background to marry if, or when, she felt so disposed.

In the full glare of the electric light, going down the wide stairs, she entered the large patio, looking a picture.

She was wearing a dress of some yellow, gauzy material that matched her hair, a garment that clung around her like a sunbeam, bright and s.h.i.+mmering. There were gold shoes on her feet, and around her neck a long chain of yellow amber beads.

As she crossed the big, empty hall, making towards the dining-room, a man rose from his chair--the short, red-faced man from whom Le Breton had rescued her a few nights before.

There was an air about him as if he had been waiting there to waylay her.

Pansy saw him and she swerved slightly, but beyond that she gave him no attention.

However, he was not so easily avoided.

He took up his stand immediately before her, leering at her in a malicious, disagreeable fas.h.i.+on.

”You're fond of chucking red-haired women in my teeth,” he said. ”Go and chuck 'em at the fellow you were spooning with outside just now.”

Annoyed that the man should have witnessed her parting with Le Breton, Pansy would have pa.s.sed without a word; but he dodged, and was in front of her again.

”At least, she isn't my fancy woman,” he went on. ”I don't run a villa for her, even if I do admire her looks.”

The weight of insinuation in his voice brought the girl to a halt.

”What is it? What do you want to say?” she asked coldly.

”You mean to tell me you don't know Le Breton runs that French actress, Lucille Lemesurier?”

Pansy did not know. Nor did she believe a word the man said.

”How dare you say such things about Mr. Le Breton?” she flashed.