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“You know why I cannot go. I am afraid of the other—Helga.” I paused before her name, and she flushed when I used it.

“All Helga could be such a friend, if you would let her.”

“Well, she has a very willing captive—how willing, you do not seem to realize.”

She lowered her eyes and stood with bent head for a moment in silence. Then she lifted it and looked frankly into my face.

“I should not have thought, now that I have seen you, that you could be so hard.”

“Should I not rather say that to you? It is I who am the conquered, you the conqueror. And you laid claim to generosity.”

“Am I not generous?”

“No; you take all—all.”

“I don’t understand you,” she said, shrinking a little from my look.

“When the time comes you will.”

“And when will it come?” The question was eager.

“I am almost afraid to think,” I answered softly, out of my inmost thoughts.

“The sooner the better. The sooner the better,” she cried. “You mystify me.”

“And am I not mystified?” I glanced at the room where M. Drexel sat.