"Ah, Nadine, my Nadine!" she cried, raising herself, and regarding her maid with a strange look: "I cannot overcome my uneasiness—my alarms!... This coincidence of date agitates me.... You know how superstitious we are at home—in our Russia—and the life I lead in Paris has not destroyed in me the simplicity of soul of a daughter of the Steppes!"
Nadine did not know what reply to make to this pathetic outburst. The Princess went on:
"And then, do you see, I think it wrong of Monsieur Thomery to even want to give this ball, only a fortnight after the tragic death of that poor Baroness de Vibray!... I tried to dissuade him from it.... I think the Baroness was his most intimate friend once!..."
"So it is said," murmured Nadine.
Sonia Danidoff went on, as if speaking to herself:
"I am not sure of it ... it is precisely to remove this suspicion from my mind that Thomery was determined to have his ball to-night at all costs!... The Baroness de Vibray, so he told me, was no more than a good old friend.... I cannot make her death an excuse for putting off the announcement of our marriage ... that would be to give colour to scandal."
Sonia Danidoff shrugged her beautiful shoulders:
"Hand me a mirror!"
Nadine obeyed. The Princess gazed long and complacently at the marvellously lovely face reflected in the glass.
"Princess," cried Nadine, "you must leave the bath, you will be late otherwise!"