Timorous at heart, Leah Einstein's evil career had been only one
of petty wheedling craft, and an easy self-surrender.

Violence she both feared and abhorred, and now, in the wane of her
beauty, she was easily content with such crumbs of money profit as
could be picked up by an easy code of a plastic surface morality
which covered only her petty intrigues.

Loyal to Irma Gulyas, Randall Clayton dared not question the poor
mock duenna; in fact, her jargon vocabulary would have failed her,
but there had been no deceit in the sympathetic tears which clung
to Madame Raffoni's eyelids.

Seated on a half-burned spar, there where the roar of the restless
waves reached their ears, with her face veiled, the Magyar witch
awaited her all unsuspicious lover. The golden sunset faded now
far in the west, the piled up purple clouds were turning blacker,
and around them


"The mists arose, the waters swelled,"
"Gulls screamed, their flight recalling."


The woman's heart was racked with the deceit which had entrapped
a man she now madly loved.

The freshening wind was driving the black smoke of the steamers,
far out at sea, in long funereal wreaths, athwart the foaming wake,
and the silver-sailed schooners began to reef, in anticipation of