"Think! This time next week. I shall be safe in peaceful England, where we have not to combat the unknown."
"No. Marraine and I have settled everything. I take the Wednesday's Nord Express after we get back to Petersburg."
"And tomorrow is Friday, and there are yet five days. Well, we must contrive to show you some more scenes of our uncivilized country, and perhaps after all you won't go."
Tamara laughed with gay scorn. She put out her little foot and tapped the edge of the great stove.
"For once I shall do as I please, Prince. I shall not ask your leave!"
His eyes seemed to gleam, and he lay perfectly still in his chair like some panther watching its prey. Tamara's blood was up. She would not be dominated! She continued mocking and defying him until she drove him gradually mad.
But on one thing she had counted rightly, he could do nothing with them all in the room.
First one and then another left their game, and joined them for a few minutes, and then went back.
And so in this fashion the late afternoon passed and they went up to dress.
No one was down in the great saloon when Tamara and the Princess descended for dinner, but as they entered, Stephen Strong and Valonne came in from the opposite door and joined them near the stove, and Tamara and Valonne talked, while the other two wandered to a distant couch.
"Have you ever been to any of these wonderful parties one hears have taken place, Count Valonne?" she asked.
Valonne smiled his enigmatic smile. "Yes," he said. "I have once or twice--perhaps you think this room shows traces of some rather violent amusements, and really on looking round, I believe it does!"
Tamara shivered slightly. She had the feeling known as a goose walking over her grave.
"It is as if wild animals played here--hardly human beings," she said. "Look at that cabinet, and the sofa, and--and--that picture! One cannot help reflecting upon what caused those holes. One's imagination can conjure up extraordinary things."
"Not more extraordinary than the probable facts," and Valonne laughed as if at some astonishing recollection. "You have not yet seen our host's own rooms though, I expect?"
"Why?" asked Tamara. "But can they possibly be worse than this?"
"No, that is just it. He had them done up by one of your English firms, and they are beautifully comfortable and correct. His sitting-room is full of books, and a few good pictures, and leads into his bedroom and dressing-room; and as for the bathroom it is as perfect as any the best American plumber could invent!"