Then he entered the apartment and locked himself in.
Having passed through the large square vestibule and through a small room that led from it, he raised the latch of the next door very cautiously, shaded the candle again and looked in.

A cool breeze almost put out the light.
"I am not asleep," said a sweet young voice.

"I am here by the window." He smiled happily at the words.

The candle-light fell upon a woman's face, as he went forward--such a face as men may see in dreams, but rarely in waking life.
Half sitting, half lying, she rested in Eastern fashion among the silken cushions of a low divan.

The open windows of the balcony overlooked the low houses opposite, and the night breeze played with the little ringlets of her glorious hair.