“Do you know this irritable lady, Marie?” asked the stranger.

Mane flushed demurely and from beneath golden lashes she regarded him with an adorable poignance, murmuring, “Oui, monsieur, I. – I am her maid.”

“Indeed! She is fortunate, for you are very beautiful and good, Marie.” “Jo vous remercie, cher monsieur.”

“Call me George, ma pigeonсe,” he murmured and his fingers played with her pretty, soft hands, his head nearing her golden head.

“This is too much! Marie, I command you to leave this dubious gentleman. He is going to aid me in escaping this detestable place!” exclaimed Marcia, her eyes burning with annoyance and chagrin, for never in her pampered life had she been treated with such cool effrontery.

“DO you want to escape from me, ma belle Marie?” murmured the masked stranger gently and his right hand cupped the soft, exquisite chin of the golden-haired young beauty, turning her blushing face toward his.

“N-no, Georges -…“ she faltered and her voice was thrilling in its nuances of submission and coquetry.

“Marie! You hussy! Leave him, it’s your mistress who commands you!” stormed Marcia.

“Will you prove you do not want to escape with a tender kiss, my sweet Marie?” murmured the masked stranger, as if Marcia had not spoken.

And, closing her lovely eyes, proffering her soft mouth, parting her red, sweet lips in a gentle moue of compliance, her hands holding his, quivering under the gentle, amorous pressure of his enfolding left arm, the golden-haired Marie offered her lips to his. He fused his mouth on hers and held her in his embrace, with a long and thrilling kiss. The girl sighed amorously.

Marcia could bear it no longer. The spectacle of her maid completely forgetting her allegiance and giving herself up to the first corner so wantonly, the terror of her own plight, the anger at being disdained as if she had.no beauty whatsoever, was maddening to her vaunted self-esteem.