hirled again: "I do not want an
umbrella," he said more forcefully, "I want a kiss."

"I thought that you were distressed over losing it."

"Not at all; I have already very many others. But a kiss from you I have
never yet."

He seized her hand again, and tearing off the glove with a haste that
demolished two buttonholes, pressed the bare cold fingers to his lips
and eyes and forehead.

"Oh, I do love you!" he cried in a fresh storm of feeling. "You _must_
love me, because my much _must_ make of you a little."

Then he kissed her hand many times more, stopping his rapid caresses to
gaze upon her with that curious, burning glow firing the sombreness of
his eyes the while he held her wrist against the fever of his face.

"If I obeyed myself," he said hoarsely, "how I would hold you and kiss
you. _Je vous embrasserais tellement!_"

She wondered why she was not distressed and alarmed. Instead the awe at
her own emotion that had come upon her spirit in the wood was with her
again. Something like strength seemed rising within her, and what it
rose against was--strangely enough--not him, but herself. She was
conscious of a sympathy for him in place of any fear for herself.

She looked from the window and saw that they were now rolling rapidly
through the brightly lighted streets, and a glimpse of the Hof told her
that the end was but five minutes further on.

"You answer not," he said, insistently; "you must say me some word."

"Oh, what can I say?" she cried helplessly.

"Say that you love me."

"But I do not."

Then he loosed her hand and ground his teeth.

"Decidedly you are queer," he said bitterly; "it is there in your eyes
and you will to deny it. You are senseless,--_vous n'avez pas de coeur!_
I am always a fool to go on as I go."

She turned her eyes upon him.

"_Je ne suis pas pour vous_," she said gently and very, very sadly;
"_mais je ne suis pour personne non plus_," she added, and there was a
tone in her voice that he had never heard before. His temper faded
instantly.

"You think of me with kindness, always,--_n'est-ce pas_?" he said,
returning her look.

Their eyes rested steadily upon each other for a little space. Then he
exclaimed:

"You do love me," and started to seize her in his arms forgetful of
lights, streets, passers-by, and all other good reasons for
self-restraint.

But just then the cab stopped before the door of No. 6, the cabman
descended.

There was no further questio