She gave the player a coin, and he passed on; she remained under the tree, a conspicuous figure, and one of a mournfulness out of place in this time of carnival.
Several people looked at her; some stopped to stare.
Luc wondered who she was, why she was here alone and apart from the general gaiety.
He was looking at her when she came slowly out of the shadow, her page behind her, and as she moved into the sunlight Luc recognized Carola Koklinska.
“The show is over,” said Clémence regretfully.
A gaudy painted curtain had been drawn across the little stage, and the people were moving away to other booths.
“Shall we go?” asked Luc.
“Yes; it is rather cold,” she answered shyly. She rose from the little green chair, and as she turned Carola, walking in front of the poles and canvas, was full in her vision.
Carola looked over her shoulder and saw the girl; the two gazed directly at each other.
“Who is that lady?” asked Clémence, for she saw Luc’s salutation and the stranger’s faint, answering smile.