of the noisome smell of Malay Jack's, and of the presence
The gentleman smiled upon them delightedly. "What enchanting peopie!" he cried. "Why did I not know, so I might have shout' with them?" The lady noticed the people not at all; whereat, being pleased, the people cheered again. The gentleman offered her his hand; she made a slow courtesy; placed the tips of her fingers upon his own. "I am honored, M. de Chateaurien," she said.
"No, no!" he cried earnestly. "Behol' a poor Frenchman whom emperors should envy." Then reverently and with the pride of his gallant office vibrant in every line of his slight figure, invested in white satin and very grand, as he had prophesied, M. le Duc de Chateaurien handed Lady Mary Carlisle down the steps, an achievement which had figured in the ambitions of seven other gentlemen during the evening.
"Am I to be lef'in such onhappiness?" he said in a low voice. "That rose I have beg' for so long - "
"Ah, I do not deserve it, I know so well! But - "
"It is the greatness of my onworthiness that alone can claim your charity; let your kin' heart give this little red rose, this great alms, to the poor beggar."
She was seated in the chair. "Ah, give the rose," he whispered. Her beauty shone dazzlingly on him out of the dimness.
"Never!" she flashed defiantly as she was closed in. "Never!"
"A rose lasts till morning," said a voice behind him.