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Show The man in the scarlet cloak and the man in the bright-green robe were the two salient figures in it for her, the one protecting her, the other coming as if to assail her, then falling listlessly from his apparent purpose and capering away intent upon his crazy quest. To-night these two figures seemed more real to her, more vital, than the figure of her husband. The Spahi had spoken the words, "Barbary sheep," with an ironical and she had read his and her mind had echoed Yet of "Crumpet's" complete deto her she had no doubt. He her, he would defend her against world, he would lie down for her tread upon, if she desired it, but was "poor old Crumpet," a ruThere was no mys-the darkness as if She was think-ing of the perfume that clung about the folds of the Spahi's cloak. It was like a part of him and of the land he dwelled in. She would have thought effeminate a scented Western man. But this, and many another thing, is readily forgiven to an Oriental. They are "different" from us, these people of the sun. It was this "difference" that had stirred the curiosity and something more of Lady Wyverne. Scent and a baby voice, a revolver . ready to protect her, an arm that felt like iron under a scarlet cloak, black eyes that were fierce as a hawk's or velvety with tenderness-she moved uneasily in her bed. She was hot and restless and had no desire for sleep. What was this man? What was his real nature, gentle or barbarous ? His manners were perfect, even in their occasional impudence! And his heart? Had he been cruel · to women? ,, |