on a wicker-couch against the wall in the far corner, with his arms crossed behind his head, and a pipe in his mouth; his eyes were closed, and he neither moved, nor opened them, perhaps supposing her to be the servant.  Noiseless as a cat, Leila crossed the room till she stood above him.  And waiting for him to come out of that defiant lethargy, she took her fill of his thin, bony face, healthy and hollow at the same time.  With teeth clenched on the pipe it had a look of hard resistance, as of a man with his head back, his arms pinioned to his sides, stiffened against some creature, clinging and climbing and trying to drag him down.  The pipe was alive, and dribbled smoke; and his leg, the injured one, wriggled restlessly, as if worrying him; but the rest of him was as utterly and obstinately still as though he were asleep.  His hair grew thick and crisp, not a thread of grey in it, the teeth which held the pipe glinted white and strong.  His face was young; so much younger than hers.  Why did she love it—­the face of a man who couldn’t love her?  For a second she felt as if she could seize the cushion which had slipped down off the couch, and smother him as he lay there, refusing, so it seemed to her, to come to consciousness.  Love despised!  Humiliation!  She nearly turned and stole away.  Then through the door, left open, behind her, the sound of that chorus:  “Vive-la, vive-la, vive-la ve!” came in and jolted her nerves unbearably.  Tearing the gardenia from her breast, she flung it on to his upturned face.

“Jimmy!”

Fort struggled up, and stared at her.  His face was comic from bewilderment, and she broke into a little nervous laugh.

“You weren’t dreaming of me, dear Jimmy, that’s certain.  In what garden were you wandering?”

“Leila!  You!  How—­how jolly!”

“How—­how jolly!  I wanted to see you, so I came.  And I have seen you, as you are, when you aren’t with me.  I shall remember it; it was good for me—­awfully good for me.”

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Far, far away, my dear.  Put my gardenia in, your buttonhole.  Stop, I’ll pin it in.  Have you had a good rest all this week?  Do you like my dress?  It’s new.  You wouldn’t have noticed it, would you?”

“I should have noticed.  I think it’s charming.

“Jimmy, I believe that nothing—­nothing will ever shake your chivalry.”

“Chivalry?  I have none.”

“I am going to shut the door, do you mind?” But he went to the door himself, shut it, and came back to her.  Leila looked up at him.

“Jimmy, if ever you loved me a little bit, be nice to me today.  And if I say things—­if I’m bitter—­don’t mind; don’t notice it.  Promise!”

“I promise.”