She bent her head carelessly and he moved away.
A few minutes later Dimitrius approached her.
“Come out on the terrace,” he said. “It’s quite warm and there’s a fine moon. Come and tell me all about it!”
She looked at him in surprise.
“All about it? What do you mean?”
“All about the little podgy man who was talking to you! You’ve met him before, haven’t you? Yes? Come along!—let’s hear the little tale of woe!”
His manner was so gentle and playful that she hardly understood it—it was something quite new. She obeyed his smiling gesture and throwing a light scarf about her shoulders went out with him on the terrace which dominated the smooth sloping lawn in front of the hotel, where palms lifted their fringed heads to the almost violet sky and the scent of mimosa filled every channel of the moonlit air.
“I heard all he said to you,” went on Dimitrius. “I was sitting behind you, hidden by a big orange tree in a tub,—not purposely hidden, I assure you! And so you are drowned!”
He laughed,—then, as he saw she was about to speak, held up his hand.
“Hush! I can guess it all! Not wanted at home, except as a household drudge—unloved and alone in the world, you made an exit—not a real exit—just a stage one!—and came to me! Excellently managed!—for now, being drowned and dead, as the old Diana, you can live in your own way as the young one! And you are quite safe! Your own father wouldn’t know you!”