"It's true, I did. Things have changed. Can you believe me when I swear I am telling the truth? Yes? You'll try? Well, I wanted you in Petrograd--you fascinated me; that was all,--and if then, after being with us, you had come to know too much and something had happened to you, I would, of course, have been sorry,--but,--how shall I say it? Not too much. In Tumen,--you know I came to Syvorotka with certain purposes: you described them well in your diary, so well that I had to put my censorship on them,--I did not suspect Syvorotka was--you...." I made an impatient movement. "Again your fairy tale?" "Alex!" she exclaimed, "I conjure you to believe me! Can't you see? Get me to tell you the truth when I am so happy as now! I could not lie to you! So that's how I came to Tumen. You were there, and you know what happened. Now--don't laugh at me,--I understand that you risked too much,--and I ran away, because I saw--I loved you. I'd die if I knew something had happened to you on account of me. I told them that you had gone to Kazan, or Nijni, that you had turned into a real bolshevik. They think you are out. For them--you are lost. And they must not see you here." "Who are 'they'? And how about _you_ knowing too much?" I inquired. "Your mysteries don't sound grave anyhow." "Alex,--I'll be angry! Again you ask silly things." So I kissed her and asked how Stanley was and the Russian and the Letts, and the pony. "Poor little thing! It died. We tried to reach Tobolsk with it." "Your Stanley poisoned it with his chimney," I said. "Don't hold anything against him, Alex. He is a good fellow. And don't be jealous, you bad, dirty, lovable crank. He still thinks you are a Canadian." "He never thinks. He fancies." She laughed. "Yes, you _are_ jealous. It is silly of you, but agreeable. I did not know you could be." "Now, let's be serious. You can't stay here. I must insist on your going away,--dear, for your own sake,--for our sake! I promise it won't be for a long time,--perhaps it will only seem so, if you love me! Don't say no. Can't you picture how happy we can be afterwards? How somewhere away from here we could marry, and.... You must go away. Why not go to England, or Japan, or Sweden? Just a trip?" "How funny you talk!" I said. "Listen to my reasons. One: I must stay near you. Two: I must see the end of this tragedy. Three: I must close _my_ bit of an account with some people. Four: All I have is not enough to pay for this room,--so no trips for me. Five: ..." "Stop! Stop!" she exclaimed, and crawling into my lap, continued: "My poor boy! That--is killing! I know why you are so poor! You spent every penny on others! You had some earnings! And to think of all you were bringing to me in Tumen ... then you did not care even, but just to be hospitable to an intruder.... And other things.... How can I repay you!..." "There are no reasons for crying on this account. Forget it please. Don't put me in the light of a benefactor,--I hate it."