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Updated: June 3, 2025
What I did know was that Ydo stops at nothing to gain her ends. And of course, she, being interested, too " "How is she interested?" he interrupted again. "I have not discovered that." "I will explain later. I want to go on with this part of my story now. But, as I say, knowing Ydo, her daring, her indifference to anything but her own game, her powers of resource "
Hampton appeared a mere Dresden statuette, the tapestried and frescoed walls became a pale and evanescent background, and Ydo alone, dancing, focused in herself all light and beauty; nay, she herself was the pride of life, the rhythm of motion, the glory of color. On and on she danced and Hayden, watching, dreamed dreams and saw visions.
Hayden felt as if his heart had stopped beating for a moment and then begun again with slow and suffocating throbs. Perhaps Ydo saw or guessed something of his emotion, for she again repeated reassuringly: "It will be all right now within a few hours. You Will see." "It's going to be dropped," he said in a dull, toneless voice.
After he had explained the circumstances to me I knew in a minute that thou wert the woman. I didn't have to gaze into my crystal or run the cards to see that. But why, why? I knew that you didn't take them for well, reasons that others might have taken them for; but why take them at all?" There was no gainsaying Ydo. "Because I thought some one else would take them if I didn't," faltered Marcia.
She was in her customary rusty, fringed black, jingling with chains, mummified in expression, and with the usual large showing of dusty diamonds. She surveyed Hayden through her lorgnon with both surprise and disapproval, and then acknowledging his bow with a curt nod, turned to Ydo. But a change had come over Mademoiselle Mariposa.
It had brought him the assurance of a hope, the confirmation of a hesitant belief that the owners of the lost Mariposa were within reach and, better still, were not entirely masters of the situation. And yesterday, too, he had met Ydo; and, perhaps, Hayden's thoughts had been as much occupied with her as with his discovered but not possessed Eldorado.
"Just so, madame," responded Ydo suavely, "but I have no secrets from Mr. Hayden. He is an old friend, an adviser, I may call him." "Humph!" Again the lorgnon was turned threateningly on Hayden. "Very well, since you have brought this on yourself, you may take the consequences. I will continue with what I have to say. Mademoiselle, I have had a recent and most distressing interview with my son.
And yet, if not the glittering vision Kitty had anticipated, Ydo was a sufficiently vivid and picturesque figure. Her short corduroy skirt had faded with wear and washing to a pale fawn-tint with a velvety bloom upon it; her brown boots were high and laced, her blue blouse had faded like her skirt to a soft and lovely hue.
"'The rose-wind blowing from the South," quoted Hayden smilingly as he clasped the hand Ydo extended to him from the depths of her chair. Then, clapping his hand to his heart, he bowed exaggeratedly before her. "Señorita, I throw my heart at your feet." "It did not touch the ground, señor. I caught and am holding it for a ransom," she answered, with the same elaborate and formal courtesy.
Ames, smoothing her black bombazine impressively and detaching a bit of straw from some tangled fringe, "are, to mention the men first, Wilfred, Horace Penfield and yourself, and my women guests are Marcia Oldham and Ydo Carrothers." "Really!" was all Hayden could think of to exclaim, and he uttered that somewhat feebly.
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