Louis Harman was sitting behind Kitty, a little to her right.  He saw her watching the actress and her companion; noticed a compression of the lip, a flash in the eye.  She sprang up, said she must go home, and practically dissolved the party.

Mademoiselle Ricci, who had also risen, proposed to Lord Magellan that she should take him in her gondola to the shop of a famous dealer on the Canal.

“Thank you very much,” said Lord Magellan, irresolute, and he looked at Kitty.  The look apparently decided him, for he immediately added that he had unfortunately an engagement in the opposite direction.  The actress angrily drew herself up, and proposed a later appointment.  Then Kitty carelessly intervened.

“Do you remember that you promised to see me home?” she said to the young man.  “Don’t if it bores you!”

Lord Magellan eagerly protested.  Kitty moved away, and he followed her.

“Chere madame, will you present me to your daughter?” said the Ricci, in an unnecessarily loud voice.

Madame d’Estrees, with a flurried gesture, touched Kitty on the arm.

“Kitty, Mademoiselle Ricci.”

Kitty took no notice.  Madame d’Estrees said, quickly, in a low, imploring voice: 

“Please, dear Kitty.  I’ll explain.”

Kitty turned abruptly, looked at her mother, and at the woman to whom she was to be introduced.

“Ah! comme elle est charmante!” cried the actress, with an inflection of irony in her strident voice.  “Miladi, il faut absolument que nous nous connaissions.  Je connais votre chere mere depuis si longtemps!  A Paris, l’hiver passe c’etait une amitie des plus tendres!”

The nasal drag she gave to the words was partly natural, partly insolent.  Madame d’Estrees bit her lip.

“Oui?” said Kitty, indifferently.  “Je n’en avais jamais entendu parler.”

Her brilliant eyes studied the woman before her.  “She has some hold on maman,” she said to herself, in disgust.  “She knows of something shady that maman has done.”  Then another thought stung her; and with the most indifferent bow, triumphing in the evident offence that she was giving, she turned to Lord Magellan.

“You’d like to see the Palazzo?”

Warington at once offered himself as a guide.

But Kitty declared she knew the way, would just show Lord Magellan the piano nobile, dismiss him at the grand staircase, and return.  Lord Magellan made his farewells.

As Kitty passed through the door of the salon, while the young man held back the velvet portiere which hung over it, she was aware that Mademoiselle Ricci was watching her.  The Marseillaise was leaning heavily on a fauteuil, supported by a hand behind her.  A slow, disdainful smile played about her lips, some evil threatening thought expressed itself through every feature of her rounded, coarsened beauty.  Kitty’s sharp look met hers, and the curtain dropped.