"But he would have none of it," retorted the woman. "He saw through it all, saw that it was an impossible dream, because in reality it was, and is, a wild delusion and a nightmare."
"Perhaps that was your fault," replied Romanoff. "Perhaps your powers of fascination were not as great as I thought. Anyhow——"
"Have you seen him lately?" she interrupted. "You know where he is? What he is doing?"
Her voice vibrated with eagerness; she looked towards Romanoff with a flash of pleading in her great lustrous eyes.
"Don't you read the newspapers?"
"Not the English. Why should I? What is there in them for me? Of course I get the Polish and the Russian news."
"If you read the English newspapers you would have no need to ask where he is," replied Romanoff.
"Why, has he become famous?"
As if in answer to her question there was a knock at the door, and a servant entered bringing three London evening papers.
"There," said the Count, pointing to some bold headlines—"there is the answer to your question."