"That girl is marked for destruction," she said slowly; "the gods have
done their work already."

But whatever Alixe had been, whatever she now was, she showed to her
little world only a pale brunette symmetry--a strange and changeless
lustre, varying as little as the moon's phases; and like that burnt-out
planet, reflecting any flame that flared until her clear, young beauty
seemed pulsating with the promise of hidden fire.

Selwyn, outwardly amiable and formal, was saying in a low voice: "My
dinner partner is quite impossible, you see; and I happen to be here as
a filler in--commanded to the presence only a few minutes ago. It's a
pardonable error; I bear no malice. But I'm sorry for you."

There was a silence; Alixe straightened her slim figure, and turned; but
young Innis, who had taken her in, had become confidential with Mrs.
Fane. As for Selwyn's partner, she probably divined his conversational
designs on her, but she merely turned her bare shoulder a trifle more
unmistakably and continued her gossip with Bradley Harmon.

Alixe broke a tiny morsel from her bread, sensible of the tension.

"I suppose," she said, as though reciting to some new acquaintance an
amusing bit of gossip--"that we are destined to this sort of thing
occasionally and had better get used to it."

"I suppose so."

"Please," she added, after a pause, "aid me a little."