attitude; he was merely a serving machine and for the time wiped off
the roster of mankind.

A long blue coat of silk brocade enveloped Kitty from her throat to her
sandals; sleeves which fell over her hands; buttoned by loops over
corded knots. An experienced traveler could have told him that it was
the peculiar garment which any self-respecting Chinaman would wear who
was in mourning for his grandfather. Kitty wore it because of its
beauty alone.

"Thank you," she said, as Thomas went out backward, court style. Kitty
smiled across at her maid who was arranging the combs and brushes
preparatory to taking down her mistress' hair. "He looked as if he
were afraid of something, Celeste."

Celeste smiled enigmatically. "Ma'm'selle shoult haff been born in
Pariss."

This was translatable, or not, as you pleased. Kitty sipped the
chocolate and found it excellent. At length she dismissed the maid,
switched off the lights, and then remembered that there was no water in
the carafe. She rang.

Thomas replied so promptly that he could not have been farther off than
the companionway. "You rang, miss?"

"Yes, Webb. Please fill this carafe."

"Is it possible that it was empty, miss?"