"I don't care for _breloques_," she said, with disdain, "and I
don't want to see them, I tell you." And then, turning round,
she marched straight out of the room.

At that moment the music stopped, the waltzing ceased, an a
line of retreat was left open for Graham. He saw the Countess
once more approaching, and availed himself of it; out of the
noise and heat and crowd he fled, into the fresh open air of
the quiet courtyard.


CHAPTER III.

In the Courtyard.


Three gentlemen with cigars, sitting on the bench under the
salon windows, two more pacing up and down in the moonlight
before the hall-door, and a sixth apparently asleep in a
shadowy corner, were the only occupants of the courtyard.
Graham passed them by, and sought solitude at the lower end,
where he found a seat on the stone coping of the iron railing.
The peace and coolness and silence were refreshing, after the
heat and clamour of the salon; the broad harvest-moon had
risen above the opposite ridge of hills, and flooded
everything with clear light, the river gleamed and sparkled,
the poplars threw long still shadows across the white road;
now and then the leaves rustled faintly, some far-off voice
echoed back from the hills, and presently from the hotel the
sound of the music, and the measured beat of feet, came