She pauses suddenly, having caught his eye fixed upon her with a gaze of passionate admiration. This first calls up the look of gravity we have spoken of, and then brings the color sharply to her face. It also reminds her of the somewhat peculiar character of the interview. The instant after she resumes, as if continuing her sentence, "Did you come here to ask me that?" "No," he replies bluntly. "I never thought of the question until the moment before I asked it." "Please tell me, then," she proceeds, with gathering surprise, "what _did_ you come for?" He hesitates a moment, moved by the superstition or the honest feeling that he must tell her no word of untruth, and then quietly answers: "I am not sure that I know." "Not sure that you know?" "No." "Perhaps, then, you'll go away, and when you _are_ sure----" "Come back again?" hazards he. "I didn't say that. You look and talk like a gentleman, and if, as I hope, you are one, you will know that I can't see strangers--people who have no business with me--and so you must excuse me." She has risen and moves with some dignity toward the door. "One moment," he interposes. "Forgive me; you know for your part that it is impossible I should wish to offend----" "How should I? You come here to me a stranger, and refuse to say what for." "No. I did not refuse. I only said I was not sure that I knew why I came." "Then you must be crazy!" she blurts out impulsively. "Perhaps I am. I begin to think so." "Then I wish you would go away!" she goes on with apprehension. "I'll tell you what, Mr. Bellario is here, and he's--oh, terribly strong!" "Mr. Bellario?" he echoes. "Yes. The 'Blood-Red Demon,' you know. Didn't you see him go through the traps?" Harding laughs, very much amused. "And you mean to threaten me with the 'Blood-Red Demon,' do you?" "Oh, no," she responds gently, but again edging toward the door--"not threaten; but"--in a very conciliatory tone--"if you won't say what you come for and won't go away----" "But I will," he says gravely. "Will which?" "Will both. I will say what I came for and then I will go away." "I don't mean to be rude, you know," she puts in, softening. "Nor I. Now I will tell you. I came because I could not possibly stay away--because you drew me toward you with an irresistible force----" "I'm sure I didn't!" she protests indignantly. "Unconsciously, of course. You may think me foolish--wild if you please. I can't help that. You will know better in time. I come to you saying not a wrong word, thinking not a wrong thought. There is nothing against me. At home I was a gentleman. I ask leave to visit you, respectfully as a friend, nothing more." "But why?" she asks, bewildered. "Because I admire you greatly, inexpressibly, and I must tell you so." She turns scarlet now. "But I shall never tell you this--not again--or anything else in words you do not choose to hear. All I ask is the leave now and then to see and to speak with you."