sombre, mysterious, that, suddenly approaching, closed round her. Her
brain reeled. She drew back, and with strange languor, freed herself
from Sarudine's embrace.

"Yes," she murmured with difficulty. Her lips were white and parched.

With faltering steps she re-entered the house, conscious of something
terrible yet alluring that inevitably drew her to the brink of an
abyss.

"Nonsense!" she reflected. "It's not that at all. I am only joking. It
just interests me, and it amuses me, too."

Thus did she seek to persuade herself, as she stood facing the darkened
mirror in her room, wherein she only saw herself _en silhouette_
against the glass door of the brightly lighted dining-room. Slowly she
raised both arms above her head, and lazily stretched herself, watching
meanwhile the sensuous movements of her supple body.

Left to himself, Sarudine stood erect and shook his shapely limbs. His
eyes were half closed, and, as he smiled, his teeth shone beneath his
fair moustache. He was accustomed to have luck, and on this occasion he
foresaw even greater enjoyment in the near future. He imagined Lida in
all her voluptuous beauty at the very moment of surrender. The passion
of such a picture caused him physical pain.

At first, when he paid court to her, and after that, when she had
allowed him to embrace her and kiss her, Lida had always made him feel
somewhat afraid. While he caressed her, there was something strange,
unintelligible in her dark eyes, as though she secretly despised him