"Yes, yes," said Ralph. "The two Bonzes—who have actually been seen near Ravenspur—and the Princess Zara. Could she recognize me?"
Ralph asked the question in almost passionate entreaty.
"I am certain she could not," Tchigorsky replied. "Come, victory shall be ours yet. Here we are at my house at last. By the way, you must have a name. You shall be my cousin Nicholas Tchigorsky, a clever savant, who, by reason of a deplorable accident, has become both blind and dumb. Allons."
CHAPTER VIII A MASTER OF FENCE
Lady Mallowbloom's reception rooms were more than usually crowded. And every other man or woman in the glittering salon was a celebrity. There was a strong sprinkling of the aristocracy to leaven the lump; here and there the flash of red cloth and gold could be seen.
In his quiet, masterly style Tchigorsky pushed his way up the stairs. Ralph Ravenspur followed, his hand upon the Russian's arm. He could feel the swish of satin draperies go by him; he caught the perfume on the warm air.
"Why do you drag me here?" he grumbled. "I can see nothing; it only bewilders me. I should have been far happier in your study."