Wallace Intervenes by Alexander Wilson Page B

afterwards to Berlin again. How can your friendship help me when I am no longer in London.’
    â€˜I shall no longer be in London myself,’ he told her quietly. ‘Wherever you go, I will follow. I shall always be at hand – at least, while danger threatens you.’
    Her eyes opened wide. In them he was certain he recognised dawning hope.
    â€˜Do you really mean that?’ she asked.
    â€˜I certainly do, Sophie.’
    There was a little caressing note in his pronunciation of her name for the first time. She noticed it, and again the colour stole into her cheeks.
    â€˜But this is too good – too wonderful of you!’ she exclaimed. Once more, however, her manner changed. She shook her head peremptorily. ‘It cannot be,’ she declared almost sharply. ‘You must not come.’
    â€˜Why not?’
    â€˜Because you would be endangered. No, Bernard, you must keep away.’
    He laughed.
    â€˜Do you think,’ he asked, ‘that I would stay back, because I might otherwise go into danger? Can’t you think that I would account any danger that might threaten me through you as nothing, so long as I were at hand to protect you?’
    She regarded him for a moment, a look of tenderness in her eyes.
    â€˜Why do you feel like that about me?’ she asked softly.
    He looked down at the carpet under his feet; felt his own face grow hot and flushed.
    â€˜Please do not ask me, Sophie,’ he murmured. ‘I might say something foolish.’
    For several moments there was a profound silence in the room. The tick of the clock on the mantelpiece seemed to grow incredibly loud. He looked up to find her eyes fixed on him with such a look of tender yearning in them that he was startled. He half rose; then threw himself back in his chair.
    â€˜To think,’ he heard her say gently, ‘that twenty-four hours ago you and I did not know each other. It seems impossible.’
    â€˜It is impossible,’ he retorted, and was astonished to find how husky his voice had become. ‘I believe you and I, Sophie, have been friends since the beginning of time. We have only just discovered it, that’s all.’
    â€˜What a very nice thought! I think perhaps you are right.’ The determination returned to her manner and voice. ‘Nevertheless,’ she persisted, ‘you must not go with me to Berlin.’
    â€˜That’s a pity,’ he returned easily. ‘I should much have preferred to travel with you. However, if you forbid it, I shall have to follow.’
    â€˜You are determined?’
    â€˜Absolutely.’
    â€˜You are a much more resolute person that I first imagined,’ she declared with a little smile.
    â€˜And you,’ he retorted, ‘are far less of the cold, experienced woman of the world.’
    â€˜I am glad you have found that out about me. And now,Bernard, much as it distresses me, I must send you away. I have many engagements. Perhaps tomorrow—’
    â€˜Tomorrow,’ he declared, as he rose, ‘whether you have engagements or not, I will call at eleven in the morning, and kidnap you. I will drive you out of London, and we shall spend a day in the country.’
    â€˜Oh,’ she sighed, ‘how delightful that will be!’
    â€˜You won’t mind being kidnapped?’
    â€˜I shall love it.’
    He departed, without seeing anything of her maid or of the two companions. He wondered if the former had been listening to the conversation. If so, she had heard nothing of any particular significance, unless she considered that the decidedly sentimental turn that the conversation had taken, and Foster’s avowed determination to accompany Sophie to Berlin and act as her friend and protector, would interest her employer. The young man smiled grimly as he reflected that it would probably interest him very much indeed. Well, let it. He felt he knew how to look after Sophie and himself as well. He would