"And I suppose you did?" Tamara's voice was full of contempt.
He noticed the tone, and went on defiantly:
"Of course; that was easy; only the devil of a carpet made him trip at the bottom again, and he has strained two of his beautiful feet. But you should have seen him!" he went on proudly. "As dainty as the finest gentleman in and out the chairs, and his great success was putting his forelegs on the fender seat!"
"How you have missed your metiér!" Tamara said, and she leant back in her sofa and surveyed him as he stood, a graceful tall figure in his blue long coat. "Think of the triumph you would have in a Hippodrome!"
He straightened himself suddenly, his great eyes flashed, and over his face came a fierceness she had not guessed.
"I thought you had melted a little—here in our snow, but I see it is the mummy there all the same," he said.
Tamara laughed. For the first time it was she who held the reins.
"Even to the wrappings,"—and she gently kicked out the soft gray folds of her skirt.
He took a step nearer her, and then he stood still, and while the fierceness remained in his face, his eyes were full of pain.
She glanced up at him, and over her came almost a sense of indignation that he should so unworthily pass his time.