“Sultana, don’t forget that, save thee and me, servant of the great chamber, none may enter here and go alive?”

“Now by the fiend, enough!” blazed the girl. “Again, I am the law! Wilt have it imprinted on thy great body with my whip?”

Milo made a low obeisance, departed without further speech, and in a few moments ushered in from the bacchanalian revels a maid for his mistress.

“Pascherette will serve thee well, Sultana,” he said, leading the girl forward. He saw approval in Dolores’s face and departed, his luminous black eyes unwontedly soft and limpid.