“Ah yes! You never thought of me as being able to love—to love a man and not an impersonal cause. Ah yes! You never quite looked upon me as a mere woman.” “I have always regarded you as something higher than a mere woman,” said Ezra. “Listen,” she said, sitting down again beside him. “You have yet to know me—the woman, I mean, and not the pioneer of Perfection City. My father was a man of passionate nature. He had fine instincts, but these were not developed. He was a Russian noble. I come of very good blood, as they say in the old world.” “I always knew you were of distinguished birth,” said Ezra. “Not at all, quite the contrary,” said Madame, with a laugh that sounded harsh. “My father was a wild, self-willed Russian noble. He was to have married a lady of princely house, only that he refused to do one thing which they made a condition of the marriage.” “What was that?” “To give up my mother. Do you understand? He could not marry the princess, and he sacrificed wealth, position, and worldly honour, because he would not give up the pale-haired English girl whom he loved passionately, and who was my mother. She died, and my father died too, not many years afterwards. He did what he could for me by leaving me his fortune and the permission to bear his name, to which I had no legal right. From my mother I inherited my brain, but my heart I inherited from my father. Now let us go.” “Must we?” said Ezra, to whom Madame’s sudden confession had been full of interest. “There is nothing further for us to do. Perfection City is safe.” “But we must return to real life, Brother Ezra. Sitting here, ringed around with fire, we were alone in a world of our own. For a few moments we lived for each other, as it were. Our spirits communed, and I opened my heart to you as never before to mortal being. Now we must go back to real life again. See the fires are all out, and the world is itself again—all dark.” Ezra rose to his feet and staggered a little, as Madame perceived from the stumble he made. She seemed preternaturally acute, and to be able to understand by the help of some new sense, for she put out her hand and touched his arm, “Lean on me, brother, you are still giddy from your accident. We will walk very slowly.” Ezra, feeling indeed faint enough, gratefully accepted the proffered help and put his hand within her arm; thus very slowly they started back towards the house through the inky black night. “Friend, what I said is to be locked in your breast, a secret,” said Madame. “I fully understand that,” replied Ezra, “and I feel it a high honour that you should have chosen me as the repository of the secret of your life. It is safe, nay more, it is sacred, with me.”