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Updated: June 18, 2025
And here was number 27, on account of whom Kaine dashed himself on the rocks of the Sahara, and who, in his turn, is dead also. "To die, to love. How naturally the word resounded in the red marble hall. How Antinea seemed to tower above that circle of pale statues! Does love, then, need so much death in order that it may be multiplied?
Lillian looked round at Kaine with a lingering, caressing glance. He bent towards her in quick response and answered in a whisper. She laughed and replied in an equally low tone. Loder, to whom both remarks had been inaudible dropped into the vacant seat beside Mary Esseltyn. He had the unsettled feeling that things were not falling out exactly as he had calculated.
The man was speaking as he entered, and the story he was relating was evidently interesting from the faint exclamations of question and delight that punctuated it in the listeners' higher, softer voices. As the new-comer entered they all three turned and looked at him. "Ah, here comes the legislator!" exclaimed Leonard Kaine. For it was he who formed the male element in the party.
When Antinea gave little Kaine his dismissal, smiling as she always does, he stopped in front of her, mute, very pale. She struck the gong for someone to take him away. A Targa slave came. But little Kaine had leapt for the hammer, and the Targa lay on the ground with his skull smashed. Antinea smiled all the time. They led little Kaine to his room.
Beside him, there is a little table of Kairouan, blue and gold. On that table I see the gong with which Antinea summons the slaves. I see the hammer with which she struck it just now, a hammer with a long ebony handle, a heavy silver head ... the hammer with which little Lieutenant Kaine dealt death.... I see nothing more.... I awakened in my room.
They're men, you know, and they forget these little things!" He laughed delightedly. "They overlook the fact that one of 'em has got a wife!" There was a crash of music from the orchestra. Loder sat straighter in his seat; he was conscious that the blood had rushed into his face. "Oh, indeed?" he said, quickly. "One of them had a wife?" "Exactly!" Again Kaine chuckled.
"What is the play like?" he hazarded as he looked towards his companion. At all times social trivialities bored him; to-night they were intolerable. He had come to fight, but all at once it seemed that there was no opponent. Lillian's attitude disturbed him; her careless graciousness, her evident ignoring of him for Kaine, might mean nothing but also it might mean much.
Have you read the book?" "No, Mr. Kaine," Mary Esseltyn interrupted, "Mr. Chilcote hasn't read the book." Lillian laughed. "Outline the story for him, Lennie," she said. "I love to see other people taking pains." Kaine glanced at her admiringly. "Well, to begin with," he said, amiably, "two men, an artist and a millionaire, exchange lives. See?" "You may presume that he does see, Lennie." "Right!
Loder tried hard to fix his thoughts. "It's amusing but far-fetched." "Indeed?" He picked up the programme lying on the edge of the box. His ears were strained to catch the tone of Lillian's voice as she laughed and whispered with Kaine. "Yes; men exchanging identities, you know." He looked up and caught the girl's self-possessed glance. "Oh?" he said. "Indeed?" Then again he looked away.
He was stirred by the desire to peer through another entrance than his own, to see the secret, alluring byways from another stand-point. He waited with interest for the answer to his question. For a second or two Kaine continued to survey the house; then his eye-glass dropped from his eye and he turned round. "To understand the thing," he said, pleasantly, "you must have read the book.
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