She sprang to her feet as though the voice had been a blow, and saw Bauer standing on the threshold, bowing, a curious half-ironical smile playing about his mouth. For the moment she could neither think nor speak, but out of the depths of her consciousness arose the old aversion, the old instinctive dread. She knew then, warned by that same occult power, that the time had come when the dread should receive its justification. "I found the door open, and ventured to enter unannounced," Bauer went on calmly. "I knew from experience that the usual formalities would lead to no result. You have been ’out’ a great deal of late, _gnädige Frau_." He came towards her without hesitation, and, taking her passive hand, kissed it. "Am I forgiven?" His absolute ease of manner checked the rise of her indignation. She felt herself strangely helpless. Yet her dignity—her dignity as Wolff’s wife—came to her rescue. She looked steadily into the still smiling face. "If I have been often out, it has not been a mere chance, Herr Rittmeister," she answered. "It has been of intention—an intention which you would have been wiser to respect." "I see no good reason why I should respect your husband’s ’intentions,’ _gnädige Frau_," he retorted calmly. "My husband’s wishes are mine." "Really?" He laughed, and then grew suddenly serious. "In any case, it seems to me that I—we have a right to some sort of an explanation. To put it baldly—there was a time when it pleased you to accept my sister-in-law’s hospitality and friendship. Now, it seems, neither she nor I are good enough for you." Nora flinched involuntarily. She knew that the reproach was a just one, but she knew too that Wolff had been right and only she to blame. Instinct again warned her. She saw danger in this man’s cold eyes, in which there yet flickered the light of some controlled passion either of hatred or some other feeling to which she dared give no name. "You have a right to an explanation," she said at last, with an effort controlling her unsteady voice. "Indeed, I owe you more than that—I owe you an apology. It was a mistake for me to enter into a circle to which I did not belong; only you will do me the justice to remember that it was a mistake not altogether of my making." "_Gott, gnädige Frau!_" He laughed angrily. "You talk as though we were the dirt under your feet. Is it your husband’s petty nobility which gives you the right to look at me like that? I too wear the King’s uniform—that is a point which you would do well to remember." "I have not forgotten it. And there is no question of contempt—I feel myself, Heaven knows, superior to no one; but I repeat, it was a mistake to accept kindness which could not be returned. Surely you can understand——" She crushed down her pride, and in the effort her bearing became prouder and colder. "We are poor, Herr Rittmeister, your relations are rich and live as we cannot live. That alone is a barrier between us."