could never
shake off its memory.

"Am I to live alone?" asked Etta, suddenly finding her voice.

"That is as you like," answered Paul, perhaps purposely misunderstanding
her. "You are at liberty to have any friend or companion you wish.
Perhaps--your cousin."

"Maggie?"

"Yes," answered Paul. For the first time since he had entered the room
his eyes were averted from Etta's face.

"She would not live with me," said the princess curtly.

Paul seemed to be reflecting. When he next spoke it was in a kinder
voice.

"You need not tell the circumstances which have given rise to this
arrangement."

Etta shrugged her shoulders.

"That," went on Paul, "rests entirely with yourself. You may be sure
that I will tell no one. I am not likely to discuss it with any one
whomsoever."

Etta's stony eyes softened for a moment. She seemed to be alternating
between hatred of this man and love of him--a dangerous state for any
woman. It is possible that, if he had held his hand out to her, she
would have been at his feet in a wild, incoherent passion of self-hatred
and abasement. Such moments as these turn our lives and determine them.
Paul knew nothing of the issue hanging on this moment, on the passing
softness of her eyes. He knew nothing of the danger in which this woman
stood, of the temptation with which she was wrestling. He went on in his
blindness, went on being only just.

"If," he said, "you have any further questions to ask, I shall always be
at your service. For the next few days I shall be busy. The peasants are
in a state of discontent verging on rebellion. We cannot at present
arrange for your journey to Tver, but as soon as it is possible I will
tell you."

He looked at the clock, and made an imperceptible movement toward the
door.

Etta glanced up sharply. She did not seem to be breathing.

"Is that all?" she asked, in a dull voice.

There was a long silence, tense and throbbing, the great silence of the
steppe.

"I think so," answered Paul at length. "I have tried to be just."

"Then justice is very cruel."

"Not so cruel as the woman who for a few pounds sells the happiness of
thousands of human beings. Steinmetz advised me to speak to you. He
suggested the possibility of circumstances of which we are ignorant. He
said that you might be able to explain."

Silence.

"Can you explain?"

Silence. Etta sat looking into the fire. The little clock hurried on. At
length Etta drew a deep breath.