Wallace Intervenes by Alexander Wilson Page A

yours?’
    He was astonished at the expression which, for a moment, transformed her face. It was gone almost as soon as it had come, but he was watching her closely. It suggested hatred, naked,uncompromising. What had caused it he was unable to decide at that moment, and whether it was directed against von Strom or himself. He could not conceive any reason why she should hate him, unless, by some means, she had discovered the part he was playing; neither could he imagine why she should hate the man who, though he might not be her lover, was certainly on intimate terms with her. The look made him think deeply. He wondered if again he had been implusive by accepting her at his own valuation of her. Suddenly she laughed, with all the silvery cadence which was able to thrill him so deeply with its music, but he was now on his guard more, and thought he detected a strained note in it.
    â€˜He is not a friend of the kind I need – like you, my friend,’ she told him. ‘Perhaps you also have believed the tales which have been told about him and me.’
    â€˜What tales?’ he asked innocently.
    â€˜I know it has been said by evil-minded people that we are lovers; that I am his mistress.’ Suddenly tears sprang to her beautiful eyes. ‘It is untrue,’ she cried vehemently, ‘utterly untrue. Never was anything more wicked concocted in the minds of jealous people. I have not cared much before that such things have been stated, but I cannot bear that you should believe them. You do not, do you?’
    She looked at him imploringly, all at once very much of a young, appealing girl. He marvelled at the mood which could so quickly transform her. His frank, open smile did a lot in helping her to recover full control of herself.
    â€˜I am inclined,’ he chided, ‘to feel insulted at your asking such a question of me, Baroness. Of course I do not believe such tales. I would never believe anything like that of you unless—’ he hesitated.
    â€˜Unless what?’ she demanded quickly.
    â€˜Unless you assured me they were true yourself.’
    â€˜You would believe me?’
    He nodded.
    â€˜Yes; I would believe you, because I do not think you would ever tell me an untruth.’
    The clouds cleared entirely away; she smiled at him now quite merrily.
    â€˜You are very trusting, are you not?’
    â€˜I trust you,’ he responded earnestly.
    Her pale, creamy complexion became suddenly suffused with colour.
    â€˜Oh, dear!’ she cried. ‘You and I have become all at once very intimate in our conversation. How surprised other people would be who knew that yesterday you and I met for the first time.’
    â€˜That is the value of friendship – a real, genuine friendship,’ he reminded her.
    â€˜You are right. It is because of our friendship also that I did not wish you to think evil of me. The opinions of others I do not mind, but the good opinion of the very dear friend I have found means so much to me.’
    â€˜Thank you, Baroness,’ he murmured gently.
    â€˜To you, I cannot be “Baroness”,’ she proclaimed. ‘It would be ridiculous. You shall call me Sophie, and I will call you Bernard.’
    â€˜How did you know my name?’ he queried curiously.
    â€˜Ah!’ she laughed. ‘How do I know so many things about you? A little bird with the name of Elsa whispered to me so much, Bernard.’
    â€˜The Elsa bird seems to have been very busy,’ he grunted.
    She helped herself to a cigarette, and pushed the large silver box towards him.
    â€˜I think I already owe a great deal to her. Yet what is the use?’ she suddenly cried in vehement tones. ‘It is wonderful to have your friendship, to know that I can depend upon your protection. But what use can it be to me?’
    â€˜Why not?’ he asked in profound surprise.
    â€˜I am only in this country for a few days. Next week I go to Budapest,