her maid and Rex, leading the leopard. Harold brought up the rear. Once in her dressing-room, having seen the leopard fastened and Rex dismissed, Zimbule kicked the door shut with her foot. Then, pressing Harold's head between her hands, she guided his lips to hers. The maid, grinning like a black demon, hovered over them.
Harold!
Zimbule!
Why did you go away . . . that night?
I don't know . . . I was afraid. . . .
You love me?
I adore you!
Zimbule caught sight of the black Mephistophela in her mirror.
Here, you Desdemona, she cried. Take these, sign 'em, and mail 'em. She shoved a pile of photographs into the Negress's arms, and pushed her into an adjoining room.
