cover, as though to say: "Yes, I am she, Rosina, the companion of Botticelli's spirit!..."

At last she stirred and drew the cover from her head, and, seeing me busy with the coffee, she greeted the morning with a radiant smile and set about smoothing with her fingers her beautiful, flowing hair... I came to her with the cup of coffee, passed my hand over her head, and kissed her brow, hoping she had rested from yesterday; she returned the kiss in all innocence and answered:

— "I have rested, to be sure... When do we leave, sir? I saw in my dream the mountains of Tivoli and Anticoli."

I said to her: "The Rome train goes at ten o'clock, and you have three hours before you. Do you need

anything?" She closed her eyes and touched her forehead like one think-ing... then quietly drew from her wrist the three silver bracelets and asked: "Could they be sold? I need warm clothing and shoes... These shoes of mine are worn through, the water gets in... and my dress is thin. I fear the bite of the cold as we cross the Alps... And besides all that, I am ashamed to arrive home in this patched dress and these worn-out shoes!"

— Put the bracelets back on your wrist, I beg you, Rosina, and do not forget that they are a gift — a kind memento from our friend Gibran — and set your mind at ease. We shall buy everything you need on our way to the

station... And I am going now to fetch something for breakfast...

She asked me shyly, before I went out, to give her a needle and thread...

I went to a nearby restaurant and found its owner, my friend "Bouchni," in his apron, arranging the glasses of laban in the window. He beamed when he saw me and said: "Every time I set the milk to curdle I think of you, Monsieur Joseph, for the customers find Bouchni's laban tastier than the laban of the Bulgarians (the monopolists of laban in those days)... and the credit

is all yours, for it was you who taught me to make laban... And now, how may I serve you?"

— I need something for breakfast, and some provisions for a journey, and two hundred francs; I shall return them this evening if I can. If not, then next week."

And the good-hearted man answered:

— "Monsieur Joseph. Everything in the shop, and the shop's owner himself, are at your command!"

xxxx

Rosina spent some time putting her clothes to rights: the green dress... the white sleeveless chemise, and the red shawl — this was all the poor girl owned in the way of clothes, to cover the most beautiful body a

woman ever had!

I sat in the same spot where I used to sit with Gibran, listening to the music and watching the dancing, and I drifted off into fancy: Miss Olga is now in "Tomsk": "When I think of Paris, it appears to my mind like a dream — far, far away." And Gibran in Boston: "I am not pleased with my life, Youssef..." And as though Rosina's thoughts were keep-ing company with mine, she asked me:

— Have you any news of Monsieur Gibran?

— Yes. And he always asks me about you.

— Please, when you write to him, give him my greetings and tell him...

— What shall I tell him?

— That Rosina, every time she looks at the silver bracelets, remembers you

with gratitude... and that she very nearly sold them to buy shoes!!

And she gave me an impish look, from which I understood that she had been sure I would never let her do it!...

I asked her suddenly: Rosina. Tell me the truth. What do you think of our friend Gibran? I know that during my absence you used to sit for him, and that he sometimes invited you to eat...

— Gibran, sir, is a prince, gentle and

Rosina putting her clothes to rights