débutante who had also been of his group in the dining-room.
"Quick, Miss Preston!" he said. "Take off your left-hand glove!"
Miss Preston was young enough and thoughtless enough to take the situation lightly, and obeyed him with a smile. He gave her palm a glance, then turned her hand and looked at the back. Then he left her for the pale wan youth. His glove, too, came off his left hand, and his right gloved hand was examined. The man with the pompadour came next, and the same pantomine was enacted. Astro's eyes stayed for a second or two on the man's left coat sleeve; then he passed on.
So he went from one to another, now to a woman, now to a man, until he came to the Countess Trixola. Her eyes had never left him; her hand remained on her breast, as if to hide the beating of her heart. Her eyes were hard and cold but the pupils were dilated. Her upper lip quivered a little.
"Will you kindly remove your glove, Countess? No, your right, if you please. Yes, thank you. Now your left hand, just as it is. Thank you."
He turned swiftly to the next beside her, but before he had examined the hand he had bitten the knuckle of his forefinger, as if in abstraction.
This Valeska noticed, and from that moment regardless of what he was doing, she kept her eyes on the countess. The woman had turned to a companion, and was evidently voicing some sarcastic comment on Astro's methods. As she spoke, she moved insensibly away, and backed toward another group nearer the wall by the windows. The company had now begun to
