to attract. The lessons of her early days, the tragedy of her mother's
married life, had permeated her whole being, and her ability to
remain emotionally unstirred was due to an instinctive reserve and
self-withdrawal--an inherent distrust of the passion of love.

_"Take everything. But do not give--anything--in return."_
Subconsciously Diane's words, wrested from her at a moment of poignant
mental anguish, formed the credo of her daughter's life.

No man, so far, had ever actually counted for anything in Magda's scheme
of existence, and as she drove slowly home from Lady Arabella's house in
Park Lane she sincerely hoped none ever would. Certainly--she smiled a
little at the bare idea--Kit Raynham was not destined to be the man!
He was clever, and enthusiastic, and adoring, and she liked him quite a
lot, but his hot-headed passion failed to waken in her breast the least
spark of responsive emotion.

Her thoughts drifted idly backward, recalling this or that man who had
wanted her. It was odd, but of all the men she had met the memory of one
alone was still provocative of a genuine thrill of interest--and
that was the unknown artist whom she had encountered in the woods at
Coverdale.

Even now, after the lapse of ten years, she could remember the young,
lean, square-jawed face with the grey eyes, "like eyes with little fires
behind them," and hear again the sudden jerky note in the man's voice as
he muttered, "Witch-child!"

That brief adventure with "Saint Michel"--she remembered calling
him "Saint Michel"--stood out as one of the clearest memories of her