“I am sorry, Sergius,” she said, in a gentle voice; “very sorry that it is so. You have told me all this before; and I have answered you often, and always in the same way. I have no love to give you, save that which is the result of duty and gratitude. I do not forget!--I know that you rescued me from starvation and death--though sometimes I question whether it would not have been better to have let me die. Life is worth very little at its utmost best; nevertheless, I admit I have had a certain natural joy in living, and for that I have to thank you. I have tried to repay you by my service--” “Do not speak of that,” he said hurriedly; “I have done nothing! You are a genius in yourself, and would have made your way anywhere,--perhaps better without me.” She smiled doubtfully. “I am not sure! The trick of oratory does not carry one very far,--not when one is a woman! Good-night again, Sergius! Try to rest,--you look worn out. And do not think of winning power for my sake; what power I need I will win for myself!” He made no answer, but watched her with jealous eyes, as she moved towards the door. On the threshold she turned. “Those three new associates of yours--are they trustworthy, think you?” He gave a gesture of indifference. “I do not know! Who is there we can absolutely trust save ourselves? That man, Leroy, is honest,--of that I am confident,--and he has promised to be responsible for his friends.” “Ah!” She paused a moment, then with another low breathed ‘good-night’ she left the room. He looked at the door as it closed behind her--at the chair she had left vacant. “Lotys!” he whispered. His whisper came hissing softly back to him in a fine echo on the empty space, and with a great sigh he rose, and began to turn out the flaring lamps above his head.