life by his habit of abstract observation. He was able to watch people
in the throes of emotion, like a master seeing his hunters being put
through their paces.

"It shall be understood," he said. He knew it was wiser to insist upon
no more; her temper would never brook it. He knew he could count upon
her honor and her pride to fulfill her part of the bargain if she were
not exasperated beyond bearing.

"I will explain everything to Lord Tancred at luncheon," he said, "that
you will receive him this afternoon, and that then you are going to
Paris, and will not return until the wedding. You will concede the
family interviews that are absolutely necessary, I suppose?"

"I have already said so; only let them be few and short."

"Then I will not detain you longer now. You are a beautiful woman,
Zara," Francis Markrute said, as he rose and kissed her hand. "None of
the royal ladies, your ancestresses, ever looked more like a queen." And
he bowed himself out of the room, leaving her in her silence.

When she was alone she clenched her hands and walked up and down for a
few moments, and her whole serpentine body writhed with passionate anger
and pain.

Yes, she was a beautiful woman, and had a right to her life and joys
like another--and now she was to be tied, and bound again to a husband!

_"Les Infâmes!"_ she hissed aloud. "But for that part, I will not bear
it! Until the wedding I will dissemble as best I can--but afterwards--!"