"On the contrary," she responded frankly, "I like you well, Herr Trafford." "It would be sad otherwise," he sighed, "for I like you exceedingly well." And at that she put her hand bravely on his shoulder and smiled at him. "Never mind, comrade," she told him, "your heart is big enough and warm enough for two." "_My_ heart!" he exclaimed in a most lugubrious way, "my heart is several degrees colder than the ice on the Rundsee;" and added with terrible lack of tact: "whatever of warmth and fire it possessed was extinguished last Christmas Eve." The Princess removed her hand from his shoulder in a manner that should have left no doubt in his mind of the thought behind it. "Princess," he went blindly on, "you have told me your story, let me tell you mine--it is brevity itself." The Princess inclined her head. "I fell in love with a young lady named Angela Knox--an American;"--and his tone was fully as responsible as his words for bringing his companion's eyes back to his with something of the scorn his clumsy love-making deserved;--"the young lady, Angela Knox, refused me. I tried to blow my brains out, but Fate and Saunders willed otherwise. The latter advised Grimland as a hygienic antidote to _felo de se_. Behold, then," he concluded with a sigh, "an able-bodied man with an icicle in his breast!" Trafford spread out his hands in an explanatory gesture, and then for the first time he noted the heightened colour in the Princess's cheek, that her eyes were aflame, and that an explosion of some kind was imminent. "And you had the impudence to make love to me!" she cried in that wonderful voice that had captivated audiences with every intonation, from the angry tones of a jealous grisette to the caressing notes of the ingenue. "To amuse yourself by feigning a pure devotion----" But the Princess's words failed her, and the hand of a Schattenberg was raised so threateningly,--at any rate, so it seemed to Trafford--that in surprise and consternation he rose from his chair, and as he did so, his head came in contact with the electric light, which hung low from the dingy ceiling. Simultaneously the white fire in the glass bulb was extinguished to a thin, dull red line, and in two seconds they were in total darkness. CHAPTER EIGHT THE BARGAIN For several seconds Trafford stood silent in the darkness, thinking furiously. What was the correct thing to say or do in such an unusual, almost painful, situation, he had not the faintest idea. But before speech suggested itself to his puzzled brain, his companion--not wholly successful in smothering the merriment that had instantly replaced her affectation of anger--had checked him with a warning "hush!" Noiselessly the Princess tiptoed to the glazed partition that separated the inner chamber from the wine-shop, and drawing back a curtain gazed cautiously through the chink.