m away, and make your
love to her. I'll wait for you here. You'll like to see me before the
night's out."

I looked at him for a moment.

"Shall I like to see you?" I asked.

"Yes," he answered. "The olive after the sweets." He laughed, not
bitterly, I thought, but ruefully.

"So be it," I said. "Stay here."

I started off, but he had laid a cold hand on my heart. I was to want
him; then I should be no lover, for a lover wants but one. Yet I nerved
myself and cried again loudly, "Varvilliers!" This time I was answered.
I saw him and Elsa coming toward me; his voice sounded merry and
careless as he shouted, "Here I am, sire"; a moment later they stood
before me. No, there was no ground for Wetter's hint, and could be none.
Both were merely happy and gay, both utterly unembarrassed.

"Somebody wants you inside, Varvilliers," said I, with a nod.

He laughed, bowed gracefully to Elsa, and ran off. He took his dismissal
without a sign of grudge. I turned to her.

"Oh, dear," she said with a little yawn, "I'm tired. It must be very
late."

I caught her by both hands.

"Late!" I cried. "Not too late, Elsa!" I bent down and kissed both her
hands. "Why did you run away?" I asked.

"I didn't know you wanted me," she said in a sort of wonder.

I looked full in her eyes, and I knew that there was in mine the look
that declares love and asks for it. If her eyes answered, the vision
might be reality. I pressed her hands hard. She gave a little cry, the
sparkle vanished from her eyes, and their lids drooped. Yet a little
colour came in her cheeks and the gray dawn showed it me. I hailed it
with eagerness and with misgiving. I thought of Wetter waiting there
among the trees, waiting till the moment when I wanted him.

"Do you love me, Elsa?" I asked.

The colour deepened on her cheeks. I waited to see whether her eyes
would rise again to mine; they remained immovable.

"You know I'm very fond of you," she murmured.

"But do you love me?"

"Yes, of course I love you. Please let my hands go, Augustin."

If Wetter were listening, he must have smiled at the peal of laughter
that rang out from me over the terrace. I could not help it. Elsa
started violently as I loosed her hands; now she looked up at me with
frightened eyes that swam in tears. Her lips moved; she tried to speak
to me. I was full of brutal things and had a horrible longing to say
them to her. There was a specious justice in them veneering their
cruelt