"No, no, I don’t hate you," she cried. "I love you at the bottom—at least, I believe I do. I can’t tell. Everything in me is in revolt and uproar. I can’t see you clearly as you are, as I love you. You are just one of those others, one of those whom I detest as my deadliest enemy. That is why I must go away. If I stayed, God knows, I believe I should grow to hate you." Every trace of colour faded out of his face, but he did not speak, and she ran to him and clasped his arm with the old reckless pleading. "Let me go!" she begged. "Let me go home! Things will be better then. I shall quiet down. I shan’t be so constantly maddened and irritated as I am now. I shall have time to think. Wolff, I _must_ go!" "If you go now, it will be for ever," he said steadily. "The woman who leaves her husband and her country in the time of danger sacrifices the right to return." "Wolff!" Her hands sank to her side. She stared at him blankly, horror-stricken. "You must see that for yourself," he went on in the same tone of rigid self-control. "If war breaks out and you return to England, you can never come back here as my wife. I am a German and an officer, and the woman who shares my life must share my duty. That is the law. It is a just and right one. Husband and wife cannot be of different factions. They must stand together under the same flag. In marrying me you accepted my country as your own. If you leave me now, you are turning traitor, and there must be no traitors amongst us." He put the case before her with pitiless logic, more overwhelming than the fiercest outburst of passion. The hysterical excitement died out of her face. "A traitor!" she repeated dully. "How can I be that? How can any one give up their country?" "I do not know," he answered, "and therefore whatever you choose I shall not blame you. I only show you the inevitable consequences." "Wolff, I can’t stay here. Everybody hates me. I can’t hide what I feel. You don’t know the things I have done—and said. I—I insulted some one this afternoon." "It can all be lived down," he returned. "People will forgive and understand, if you stand by us." "But I can’t—not in my heart of hearts. Wolff, if war breaks out, I shall be praying for your ruin—yes, in your very churches I shall pray for it. Perhaps my prayers will direct the very bullet that kills you——" Her voice shook with a kind of smothered horror, which stirred the cold weight in his heart to pity. "Hush, Nora, hush! That is all exaggerated feeling. It is hard for you, but you must choose. Either you must sacrifice your country or your husband. That is the simple issue." "Why should _I_ bring the sacrifice?" she retorted. "Why must _I_ be the one to give up everything that I was taught to love and honour next to God? If you love me, leave the army, leave Germany! Let us go away—anywhere—and be happy together!" "Nora!"