“Ah, yes. It is--it is _superbe_. Such beautiful _toilettes_! And your women--they are so many--so----” West threw back his head. “Yes, we certainly have a great many,” he said, with a laugh. The bewildered look returned to the Frenchman’s face. “So many--so beautiful, I mean, so charming. And so many kinds! So different! Your Washington--it is a marvel.” Helen extended her hand. “You are very good to say so. But I’m sorry you’re leaving.” “_Au revoir_, madame.” He glanced at West and bowed once more. “Monsieur!” West looked relieved. “Perhaps now we can have a moment together,” he said to Helen. “I have something to say to you. Will you come into the library?” Helen hesitated. “But only for a moment,” she said. When she had entered the room and taken a seat she asked, in a matter-of-fact tone: “What is it?” “A few moments ago you told me that you weren’t able to make me out,” West said, slowly. Helen smiled good-humoredly. “Not quite that, I think. I hadn’t tried _very_ hard.” “You said you didn’t understand what kind of man I really was.” Helen moved uneasily. “I really think I ought to go back. You must tell me these things some other time.” “Wait a minute. I may not have another chance to see you alone to-night. There is something I must say to you now.” Helen drew a long breath and turned slightly paler. “I must tell you what it means to me to be near you.” Helen kept her eyes turned from him. “I don’t understand you,” she said, quietly. West let his hand rest on her arm. “You don’t understand?” Helen turned and faced him. “No,” she replied, coldly. “Do you mean that you haven’t understood all along how I felt toward you?” For a moment they faced each other in silence. “Please take your hand off my arm,” said Helen. “Why don’t you answer?” West insisted. Helen drew her arm away. “Because, as I have told you before, there are some things that are better not said.” “Then you’ve known?” “Yes, I’ve known.” Helen did not flinch. “I’ve suspected.” “Why have you allowed me to come here, then?” “Because,” Helen replied, slowly, as if measuring her words, “I thought you would never dare to speak to me as you’ve just done. And if you go on I shall have to call my husband. Before that becomes necessary I must ask you to leave here.” West assumed an attitude of contemptuous indifference. “Thank you, but I prefer to stay.” “You will not go?” West folded his arms. “No.” Helen turned toward the electric bell. “Don’t touch that bell,” said West, authoritatively. She faced him as if fascinated. He could hear her breathe. “Now, you won’t call the servants, and you won’t tell your husband anything about this conversation. In the first place, your servants are really my servants.” Helen shrank back. “Oh!” she said. “They are paid with my money,” West went on, with a grim smile. “So I think I may call them mine.” “How contemptible of you!”