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And then the showman in him reflected that if Lina could one day dance as she had smiled, her power would be complete.

She said to him shortly afterward: "If you have finished with me for this afternoon I said that I would go to tea with Monsieur Martens."

He said violently: "I forbid it!"

"Very well, just as you like. It doesn't matter. But he was going to show me his pictures."

"You don't understand. Martens is no friend for you— he's uncouth, immoral, no respecter of women."

"Very well," she repeated in a gentle tone of voice, "if you don't wish it of course I won't go."

He said no more, but shortly afterward Paul Martens came round to visit him.

"What have you been telling Mademoiselle Lina about me, Rosing? I hear that she is forbidden my door, on the grounds that I'm a seducer, a ruffian, no fit associate for your young innocent!"

"Where did you see Lina?"

"I met her out walking near the Grande Place this morning," said Martens frankly.

"By assignation, I suppose?"

"No, I assure you. Believe me, my friend, you are acting in a ridiculous fashion over this matter. If you suppose that I covet your Russian fairy, you are wrong, for I don't. She is too much of a baby for my taste. On the other hand, it would amuse her to visit my studio and it would amuse me to entertain her there—convenablement, g'est bien entendu. But if you keep her shut up like a young nun you will most certainly regret it, for one day the bird will fly away." He added, half to himself: "Furthermore, since we are talking of birds, I am by no means convinced that Mademoiselle is the little white goose you would have us believe."

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