gullible amateur speculators, was lecturing on mines. They stopped to
say a word or two here and there, but Stephanie's fingers never left her
companion's arm. They passed down a corridor hung with a collection of
wonderful sporting prints in which she affected some interest, into a
small gallery which led into the ballroom. Here they were alone. She
laid her hands upon his shoulders and looked up into his eyes. Her lips
drew nearer to his.

"Kiss me--upon the lips, Leopold," she ordered.

"There is no Leopold here," he replied; "you yourself have said it."

She came a little nearer. "Upon the lips," she whispered.

He held her, stooped down, and their lips met. Then she stood apart
from him. Her eyes were for a moment closed, her hands were extended as
though to prevent any chance of his approaching her again.

"Now I know the truth," she muttered.

Dominey found an opportunity to draw Seaman away from his little group
of investment-seeking friends.

"My friend," he said, "trouble grows."

"Anything more from Schmidt's supposed emissary?" Seaman asked quickly.

"No. I am going to keep away from him this evening, and I advise you to
do the same. The trouble is with the Princess."