'What do they say?' Margaret was interested.
'No, I shall not tell you, because I don't believe it.'
'If you say you don't believe the story, what harm can there be in telling it?'
'No harm, perhaps. But what is the use of repeating a bit of wicked gossip?'
Margaret's curiosity was roused about the beautiful Englishwoman.
'If you won't tell me, I may think it is something far worse!'
'I'm sure you could not imagine anything more unlikely!'
'Please tell me! Please! I know it's mere idle curiosity, but you've roused it, and I shall not sleep unless I know.'
'And that would be bad for your voice.'
'Of course! Please--'
Logotheti had not meant to yield, but he could not resist her winning tone.
'I'll tell you, but I don't believe a word of it, and I hope you will not either. The story is that her husband found her with Van Torp the other evening in rooms he keeps in the Temple, and there was an envelope on the table addressed to her in his handwriting, in which there were four thousand one hundred pounds in notes.'
Margaret looked thoughtfully at Lady Maud before she answered.
'She? With Mr. Van Torp, and taking money from him? Oh no! Not with that face!'
'Besides,' said Logotheti, 'why the odd hundred? The story gives too many details. People never know as much of the truth as that.'
'And if it is true,' returned Margaret, 'he will divorce her, and then we shall know.'
'For that matter,' said the Greek contemptuously, 'Leven would not be particular, provided he had his share of the profits.'
'Is it as bad as that? How disgusting! Poor woman!'
'Yes. I fancy she is to be pitied. In connection with Van Torp, may I ask an indiscreet question?'
'No question you can ask me about him can be indiscreet. What is it?'
'Is it true that he once asked you to marry him and you refused him?'
Margaret turned her pale face to Logotheti with a look of genuine surprise.
'Yes. It's true. But I never told any one. How in the world did you hear it?'
'And he quite lost his head, I heard, and behaved like a madman--'
'Who told you that?' asked Margaret, more and more astonished, and not at all pleased.
'He behaved so strangely that you ran into the next room and bolted the door, and waited till he went away--'
'Have you been paying a detective to watch me?'
There was anger in her eyes for a moment, but she saw at once that she was mistaken.
'No,' Logotheti answered with a smile, 'why should I? If a detective told me anything against you I should not believe it, and no one could tell me half the good I believe about you!'
'You're really awfully nice,' laughed Margaret, for she could not help being flattered. 'Forgive me, please!'
'I would rather that the Nike of Samothrace should think dreadful things of me than that she should not think of me at all!'
'Do I still remind you of her?' asked Margaret.
'Yes. I used to be quite satisfied with my Venus, but now I want the Victory from the Louvre. It's not a mere resemblance. She is you, and as she has no face I see yours when I look at her. The other day I stood so long on the landing where she is, that a watchman took me for an anarchist waiting to deposit a bomb, and he called a policeman, who asked me my name and occupation. I was very near being arrested--on your account again! You are destined to turn the heads of men of business!'
At this point Margaret became aware that she and Logotheti were talking in undertones, while the conversation at the table had become general, and she reluctantly gave up the idea of again asking where he had got his information about her interview with Mr. Van Torp in New York. The dinner came to an end before long, and the men went out with the ladies, and began to smoke in the drawing-room, standing round the coffee.
Lady Maud put her arm through Margaret's.
'Cigarettes are bad for your throat, I'm sure,' she said, 'and I hate them.'
She led the Primadonna away through a curtained door to a small room furnished according to Eastern ideas of comfort, and she sat down on a low, hard divan, which was covered with a silk carpet. The walls were hung with Persian silks, and displayed three or four texts from the Koran, beautifully written in gold on a green ground. Two small inlaid tables stood near the divan, one at each end, and two deep English easy-chairs, covered with red leather, were placed symmetrically beside them. There was no other furniture, and there were no gimcracks about, such as Europeans think necessary in an 'oriental' room.
With her plain black velvet, Lady Maud looked handsomer than ever in the severely simple surroundings.
'Do you mind?' she asked, as Margaret sat down beside her. 'I'm afraid I carried you off rather unceremoniously!'
'No,' Margaret answered. 'I'm glad to be quiet, it's so long since I was at a dinner-party.'
'I've always hoped to meet you,' said Lady Maud, 'but you're quite different from what I expected. I did not know you were really so young--ever so much younger than I am.'
'Really?'
'Oh, yes! I'm seven-and-twenty, and I've been married four years.'
'I'm twenty-four,' said Margaret, 'and I'm not married yet.'
She was aware that the clear eyes were studying her face, but she did not resent their scrutiny. There was something about her companion that inspired her with trust at first sight, and she did not even remember the impossible story Logotheti had told her.
'I suppose you are tormented by all sorts of people who ask things, aren't you?'
Margaret wondered whether the beauty was going to ask her to sing for nothing at a charity concert.
'I get a great many begging letters, and some very amusing ones,' she answered cautiously. 'Young girls, of whom I never heard, write and ask me to give them pianos and the means of getting a musical education. I once took the trouble to have one of those requests examined. It came from a gang of thieves in Chicago.'
Lady Maud smiled, but did not seem surprised.
'Millionaires get lots of letters of that sort,' she said. 'Think of poor Mr. Van Torp!'