"It must be your great beauty that I remem——"
"That will be about enough of that, thank you," she interrupted him coldly. "I know all about my beauty, and don't in the least need to be told about it."
"One could not very well remember you at all without remembering your beauty," insisted Nick boldly. "It is the first thing about you that strikes one; and the second is——"
"Well—what? Possibly I will be more interested in that."
"The fear you inspire, I think. You have what the French call a 'way' about you."
She started perceptibly.
"What do you know about the French?" she demanded; and Nick saw instantly that he had made a mistake in reminding her of her career in Paris. Now it was possible that she might recall where she had seen him.
But he dismissed the idea as soon as it came to him, for he remembered again how perfectly he was disguised, and how impossible it should be for her to remember him after all these years, through the disguise.
But now she was looking steadily at him, and for the moment she had forgotten to eat.
"Who are you, Dago?" she demanded suddenly. "You are not what you seem."