o, in a nervous agony of remorse. For
whatever happened I held myself responsible. At first they thought her
life was in danger. I passed nightmare days. Then the alarming symptoms
subsided, and it was a question of the saving of the eye and the decent
healing of the cheek torn deep by the claws of the accursed brute. When
Quast informed me of its summary execution I felt the primitive savage
arise in me, and I upbraided Quast for not having invited me to gloat
over its expiring throes. How the days passed I know not. I wandered
about the streets, looking into the windows of the great shops, buying
flowers and fruit for Lola in eccentric quantities. Or sitting in
beerhouses reading the financial pages of a German paper held upside
down. I could not return to London. Still less could I investigate
the German philanthropic methods of rescuing fallen women. I wrote to
Campion a brief account of what had happened and besought him to set a
deputy to work on the regeneration of the Judds.

At last they brought me to where Lola lay, in a darkened room, with her
head tightly bandaged. A dark mass spread over the pillow which I knew
was her glorious hair. I could scarcely see the unbandaged half of her
face. She still suffered acute pain, and I was warned that my visit
could only be of brief duration, and that nothing but the simplest
matters could be discussed. I sat down on a chair by the left side of
the bed. Her wonderful nervous hand clung round mine as we talked.

The first thing she said to me, in a weak voice, like the faint echo of
her deep tones, was:

"I'm going to lose all my good looks, Simon, and you won't care to look
at me any more."

She said it so simply, so tenderly, without a hint of reproach in it,
that I almost shouted out my horrible remorse; but I remembered my
injunctions and refrained. I strove to comfort her, telling her mythical
tales of surgical reassurances. She shook her head sadly.

"It was like you to stay in Berlin, Simon," she said, after a while.
"Although they wouldn't let me see you, yet I knew you were within call.
You can't conceive what a comfort it has been."

"How could I leave you, dear," said I, "with the thought of you
throbbing in my head night and day?"

"How did you find me?"

"Through Conto and Blag. I tried all other means, you may be sure. But
now I've found you I shan't let you go again."

This was not the time for elaborate explanations. She asked for
none. When on