"When did you meet her?" asked the Duke. "Where? What did you say to
her?"

"Yesterday. In the Corn. I didn't SAY anything to her."

"Is she beautiful?"

"Yes. What's that to you?"

"Dark or fair?"

"She's dark. She looks like a foreigner. She looks like--like one of
those photographs in the shop-windows."

"A rhapsody, Noaks! What became of her? Was she alone?"

"She was with the old Warden, in his carriage."

Zuleika--Noaks! The Duke started, as at an affront, and glared. Next
moment, he saw the absurdity of the situation. He relapsed into his
chair, smiling. "She's the Warden's niece," he said. "I dined at the
Warden's last night."

Noaks sat still, peering across at the Duke. For the first time in his
life, he was resentful of the Duke's great elegance and average
stature, his high lineage and incomputable wealth. Hitherto, these
things had been too remote for envy. But now, suddenly, they seemed
near to him--nearer and more overpowering than the First in Mods had
ever been. "And of course she's in love with you?" he snarled.