"
"Favorita--the dancer? Zoya, what do you mean?"
"Exactly what I tell you." Zoya inhaled her cigarette deeply and then
shrugged her shoulders. "When I saw Giovanni, I did not believe it
possible, that, even on so short notice, he would go off as you said,
ill and alone. So I went back along the station and waited. In a moment,
I saw Favorita come out on the platform and pass hurriedly down the
train, peering into every carriage. When she came to Giovanni's she flew
in like a bird. I waited a moment longer, and saw the guards lock the
door and the train pull out!"
Though Nina understood only vaguely what it all meant, she was human and
feminine enough to find a certain grim satisfaction in the thought that
Giovanni was no more to be trusted by the Potensi than by herself.
A short time afterward Zoya got up to go. "I shall see you to-morrow,
_cara_, yes? Will you lunch with me? And--I shall like very much if you
bring the American."
"Do you mean John?"
Zoya burst out laughing and then mimicked Nina's tone. "Is it indeed
possible that I could mean him?" She leaned over and kissed Nina
affectionately, then hurried to the door. On the threshold she paused to
call back, "One o'clock to-morrow, and be sure of John!" She smiled,
blew another kiss, and was gone.
Nina looked after her, her thoughts in strange turbulence.
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