I returned
the salute in kind.
"Tell me," I said. "Were you ever jealous?"
She kept her eyes on the stage. Carmen was the opera, but, thus far, I
had not heard a single note.
"I am waiting for you to answer my question," she said, presently.
"I fear I missed it," I replied.
"Queer, surely--it was about Lady Helen. I asked if she were not
beautiful to-night."
"She is always very handsome," I said. "And she looks particularly
well in blue."
Dehra smiled slyly. "It's the same gown she wore at the Birthday Ball."
I bit my lip--then, suddenly, I got very brave.
"Tell me," I said. "How did you know I kissed her, that night?"
"I saw it."
"The Dev--! Oh!" I exclaimed. I was brave no longer. I got
interested in the opera. Presently, I ventured to glance at Dehra--she
was laughing behind her fan. Then I ventured again.
"I hope," said I, "I did it nicely."
"Most artistically, my dear Armand. Escamillo, yonder, could not do it
more cleverly."
I winced. It is not especially flattering to an Archduke to be classed
with a toreador--and Carmen's toreador, least of all. Yet, I
recognized the justice of the punishment. Bravery had failed twice; it
was time to be humble.
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