I ventured.

“Yvette? No! I should think not. She has served half the sopranos in Europe — she won’t go to contraltos. I possess her because I outbid all rivals for her services. As a hairdresser she is unequalled. And it’s so much nicer not being forced to call in a coiffeur in every town! It was she who invented my ‘Elsa’ coiffure. Perhaps you remember it?”

“Perfectly. By the way, when do you recommence your engagements?”

She smiled nervously. “I — I haven’t decided.”

Nothing with any particle of significance passed during the remainder of our interview. Telling her that I was leaving for England the next day, I bade good-by to Rosa. She did not express the hope of seeing me again, and for some obscure reason, buried in the mysteries of love’s