"And how about the chained beauty?" asked Herr Kellermann, turning to Lilly. "Have you quite forgotten her?
"Quite," replied Lilly, with a languid smile.
"And you'll never come?"
"Never!"
"But I tell you that you will come," he said, leading her to the side of the staircase. "You will come when the chains have cut into your flesh and you don't know----"
Dehnicke returned with the wraps, and he said no more.
Lilly was in far too happy and complacent a mood to attribute any significance to these words, which in the mouth of this bacchic faun sounded like a joke. She simply laughed at him and passed on.
Her excited brain quieted down; she leaned against her friend's shoulder as they descended the stairs, airily swung her hips, and hummed to herself. The whole world seemed melting in a soft fragrant harmonious twilight. Fresh snow had fallen and the moon was shining.
Dehnicke's carriage was waiting for them.