"I know nothing about other men," he declared. "But I love you, Helène, and I am not sure that you do not care a little for me." She drew her hand away from his tightening clasp. "I am going," she said; "it is your own fault--you have driven me away." Her draperies rustled as she moved towards the door, but she did not go far. "I do not feel so well," he said quietly; "I believe that I am going to faint." She was on her knees by his side again in a moment. For a fainting man, the clasp of his fingers around hers was wonderfully strong. "I feel better now," he announced calmly. "I shall be all right if you stay quietly here, and don't move about." She looked at him doubtfully. "I do not believe," she said, "that you felt ill at all; you are taking advantage of me!" "I can assure you that I am not," he answered; "when you are here I feel a different man." "I am quite willing to stay if you will behave yourself," she said. "Will you please define good behaviour?" he begged. "In the present instance," she laughed, "it consists in not saying silly things." "A thing which is true cannot be silly," he protested. "It is true that I am never happy without you. That is why I shall never give you up." She looked down at him with bright eyes, and a frown which did not come easily. "If you persist in making love to me," she said, "I am going away. It is not permitted, understand that!" He sighed. "I am afraid," he answered softly, "that I shall always be indulging in the luxury of the forbidden. For I love you, and I shall never weary of telling you so." "Then I must see," she declared, making a subtle but unsuccessful attempt to disengage her hand, "that you have fewer opportunities." "If you mean that," he said, "I must certainly make the most of this one. Helène, you could care for me, I know, and I could make you happy. You say 'No' to me because there is some vague entanglement--I will not call it an engagement--with some one else. You do not care for him, I am sure. Don't marry him! It will be for your sorrow. So many women's lives are spoilt like that. Dearest," he added, gaining courage from her averted face, "I can make you happy, I am sure of it! I do not know who you are or who your people are, but they shall be my people--nothing matters, except that I love you. I don't know what to say to you, Helène. There is something shadowy in your mind which seems to you to come between us. I don't know what it is, or I would dispel it. Tell me, dear, won't you give me a chance?" She yielded her other hand to his impatient fingers, and looked down at him wistfully. Yet there was something in her gaze which he could not fathom. Of one thing he was very sure, there was a little tenderness shining out of her dark, brilliant eyes, a little regret, a little indecision. On the whole he was hopeful.