She asked softly: "Don't you think I did the wise thing to tell them I intended to travel as soon as I was acquitted? It surely would be in better taste than to settle down here--in that house!" "Did you mean it? The intention would make a good impression on the public, certainly." "Why, of course I meant it. I am not a good hand at saying things merely for effect." "Where shall you go? Europe is rather impossible." "Oh, not altogether. There is always Italy. And there is no danger from Zeppelins in the interior of Great Britain. And there is Spain--" "I think Europe a very good place for women to keep away from until the war is over. Any of the nations may become involved at any minute--ourselves, for that matter. Better follow the advice of advertisers and see America first." "Yes, I could visit the Expositions in California, and camp for a while in Glacier Park, and there are the Yellowstone and Grand Canyon--but all that would only consume a few months--and then there is this winter to think of. What I feel I should do is to stay away for a year, at least--" "You could live very pleasantly in Southern California." "I should be very conspicuous in those small fashionable settlements. The case has been telegraphed all over the country, and I have seen dreadful pictures of myself in several Western papers." "Well, you might live quietly in New York until the war is over. There is no better place to hide--if you avoid the restaurants and theatres. And after all, even a _cause celebre_ is quickly forgotten if there is no aftermath. But I certainly advise against even sailing for Europe until peace is declared. There is always the danger of mines and too enthusiastic submarines." She turned quite cold and stared at her hands. They were well-shaped but large, and they looked like blocks of white marble on her black gown. He was still at the window, and his tone was listless. She had a curious sense of panic in the region of her heart. But instantly she curled her lip with defiant scorn. Was she the woman to fancy herself in love with a man the moment she seemed to be in danger of losing him? Besides, no doubt, the poor man was tired, and too absorbed in the case to have any room in him for the moods of the lover. Only a foolish impulsive woman would in conditions like the present try to rouse a dormant passion. When she was free, and he as well, his heart would automatically take precedence once more and he would plead ardently for the privilege of marrying her. That was quite in order. She rose briskly. "Let me show you this map," she said. "It is the very latest--Letitia Battle brought it to me two days ago. And do smoke." "Thanks, but I must go over and watch those girls. Yes, it is a fine map. This war certainly is a godsend! Good luck. Keep up those splendid spirits. You're all right." CHAPTER XXIX