"I mentioned no lady."
"Ah, pardon!" Aksakoff was foiled. "You accept my apology?"
"None is needed. I intended to tell you the name of the lady, Ivan Aksakoff; it is madame yonder."
With uplifted eyebrows the diplomatist glanced in the direction of Leah.
"I heard something in London clubs of your admiration for her, Constantine Demetrius; even before her husband died it was said that you had laid yourself at her feet. What a pity you cannot marry her! An ideal match, my friend; quite ideal, and so useful in promoting a social understanding between Holy Russia and these islanders."
"We marry in a year," announced the doctor, calmly.
"Ah, no; but pardon me, it is impossible!" Aksakoff, really and truly startled, dropped his cigarette. That haughty Lady James Kaimes should---- "It is quite impossible," said he, staring.
"I refer you to the lady herself," insisted Demetrius.
"A-a-a-h!" droned the other, picking up his cigarette to place it in the ash-tray, and lighting another; "y-e-s!" He stared again at his companion, then stole a glance at Leah. Apparently her desire to assist Muscovite politics was not entirely a question of pounds, shillings, and pence. She was less sordid and more subtle than he had guessed.
Demetrius, giving him no time to arrive at a satisfactory conclusion, went on with his explanation. "You will, therefore, understand that my marriage with your daughter is out of the question."