There
were fifty. She had told Agapoulos that a distinguished
foreigner with an introduction from someone she knew had paid ten
pounds to be present. And because she had given Agapoulos the
ten pounds, Agapoulos had agreed to admit the visitor.
She could hear the Greek approaching now, but she was thinking of
Grantham whom she had last seen in laughing conversation with the
tall, gray-haired man. His laughter had appeared forced.
Doubtless he grew weary of the woman he had brought to London.
"Dance to-night with all the devil that is in you, my beautiful,"
said Agapoulos, hurrying into the room.
Zahara turned aside, toying with the veils.
"They are rich, eh?" she said indifferently.
She was thinking of the fifty pounds which she had earned so
easily; and after all (how strangely her mind wandered) perhaps
he was really tired of the woman. The Spaniard had said so.
"Very rich," murmured Agapoulos complacently.
He brushed his moustache and rattled keys in his pocket. In his
dress clothes he looked like the manager of a prosperous picture
palace. "Safryeh!" he called.
When presently the music commenced, the players concealed behind
the tall screen, an expectant hush fell upon the wine-flushed
company.
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