“I’m going now,” he said abruptly. “What I’ll have to do about you--I don’t know. I suppose you realize that since you’ve applied for _permission_ for Switzerland, and since I’ve been questioned about you, probably you are under special observation. So whatever you think I may be doing about you, you’d better not attempt to move for the present.” “I don’t expect to make any move at all--unless I receive my _permission_ for Switzerland,” Ruth said. “All right.” He turned away and looked for his cap in the corner where he had left it; then he came back and briefly said good night. Out upon the street with the darkness enveloping him, misgivings tormented him again. The little, dim Rue des Saints Pères was quiet and almost deserted; all Paris seemed hushed. The spring warmth of the evening which, in another year, would have brought stir and gladness which would have thronged the avenues with folk upon idle, joyous errands tonight brought only oppression. Paris, Gerry knew, denied danger; yet Paris and, with Paris, all of France; and, with France, all Europe; and, with Europe, America and the rest of the world lay menaced that April night as they had not been since the September of the Marne. For in the great bulge in the battle line which the enemy had thrust between Amiens and Paris, the Germans had established firmly their positions and there they rested, while to the north beyond Arras they were striking their second tremendous blow and had overrun Armentières and were rushing on toward Calais and the Channel. Gerry strode on with consciousness of these events almost physically pressing upon him. In their presence, what was he with his prejudices and passions, what was that girl who had seared his lips when he pressed them against her fingers so that still for many moments afterwards his lips burned and tingled? If she was a German spy who had been deluding and playing with him, to permit her to proceed now might work further catastrophe incalculable; whereas were she what he believed--yes; he believed--she could do no good but must merely destroy herself if allowed to go on. Had he any choice but to take the only action which could prevent her? Ruth had waited alone in the little parlor after he had gone, with her left hand clasped protectingly over the fingers which he had kissed; protectingly she kept that clasp while, standing at the window, she had watched his figure disappear in the darkness of the street of the Holy Fathers. Her fingers were hot like his lips; and while that heat still was strong, she brought her hand to her cheek and pressed it there.