Olga covered her face and turned away from him.
"Karl, you shall not do my portrait," she said. "Come, Herman, let us go home," she called to her husband.
Herman and Millar were deep in the discussion of a subject on which the stranger seemed to be amazingly well informed. The business instincts of Olga's husband were uppermost, and he did not like to be drawn away, but he said:
"We shall continue this talk this evening, then."
"No, I regret to say that I can't come; I have made my apologies to Madam Hofmann. I had forgotten an engagement with the Russian Consul for this evening."
"Ah, the Russian Consul will be at our house. Olga, dear, add your entreaties to mine. Persuade Monsieur Millar to come."
In dreadful embarrassment Olga turned to the smiling, cynical mask of a face that looked at her triumphantly. She could not refuse.
"I hope we may have the pleasure of seeing you this evening," she said, and turned wearily toward the door.
"Thank you, madam," the fiend replied. "I shall be more than delighted."
Karl interrupted to say that he would not reach the house that evening before 11 o'clock. He explained that he expected an art dealer. In reality he had just recalled his promise to stop at the house of Mimi. Herman, suspecting his design, made some jesting allusion to it, which caused Olga to ask what he meant. He evaded her question, and Millar, seeing another excellent opportunity to point a moral, declared that he heard a knock.