had chosen covered, and I said, trying to hide my perplexed sorrow:

"It is a beautiful dress — but you are younger than it"...

She laughed a second time, and the music suddenly fell silent, so that the echo of her laugh rang in the air; and before I knew it she was snatched from before me, and the cry rose resounding:

"Nana! Come to the buffet, let us drink a toast to Nana"...

I walked slowly behind the callers, watching her through the bodies... She took a glass of champagne and raised it to her lips, crying:

This is a toast to "Nana"! Then her eyes wandered as if she had remembered something, and when she saw me she came toward me with another glass, saying in a loud voice:

"You have not yet drunk to 'Nana'!"

I took the glass from her soft hand, sorrow wringing my heart, and cried:

"Long live Nana — and long live 'Nadia'!"...

She stared into my face, dazed, then laughed a loud, empty laugh and said: "You remember?"

I said: "Yes, I remember"...

She said, regarding me quietly through her long lashes:

"Tell me — what do you remember?"...

I said, looking into her eyes:

"I remember the day I met you for the first time. You were a pure child whose face was clothed in sadness, toying with a history book, your eyes straying beyond the horizon, as you lay on the soft grass... I asked you about your father, and you stood up at once and walked to the wide door ahead of me, then went inside, calling him in a voice sweeter than music... And when I came out, you were in the same spot, so I came near you and asked you shyly:

"'Would you kindly tell me your name, Miss?'

"You said: 'Nadia — but they call me "Nana," or rather I named myself "Nana" when I was a child who could not yet speak properly'...

"I laughed, and you laughed a clear laugh, and I said, to cover the embarrassment of us both:

"'My name is "Raji," and I never called myself "Rari," for instance'...

"You laughed again with mirth and pleasure, then walked with me to the iron gate, smiling your farewell, inviting me to other visits..."

She turned her gaze to the glass in my hands, and for a moment it seemed to me that a mask was about to fall from her face; but when she raised it to me again

it was as it had been before — cold, carved... Then she said quietly:

"And what else do you remember?"

I said, cursing that hateful affectation within me:

"I remember the day I once found you weeping by the rose tree, as though the tears of all mankind had their wellspring in your eyes... I put my arm around you for the first time, and you clung to me and kept saying through your tears:

"'I am lonely, Raji, for all the size and grandeur of this house. I see my mother only a little, and when I do see her she is tired or worn out with some task. My father is forever in his work and his world; he makes up for spending time with me by buying gifts that are not worth, to me, one hour at his side... I want to talk to them whenever I please, as children talk with their parents; I want my right to cling to them in body, soul, and spirit... Do you know when looks of pride and admiration in me shine in their eyes? When I am led out to where the guests are and displayed to them like a talking doll, and they say: "This is Nana, our daughter." Yes — then, and only then; not when I bring them my high marks in my lessons, or when I show them my skill at drawing, for instance; that is answered with a passing smile or a hasty kiss'...

"You said this and wept the harder, so I stayed with you until you grew calm and promised never to