At that moment the man-servant entered with the tea-tray. Ludwig von Salzinger watched him curiously as he set it before his mistress, in front of the crackling log fire. When the man had withdrawn Vita smiled across at him. "Tea?" she enquired. "It is British--this tea habit. There are other refreshments if you prefer them, and--you may smoke. We have the house to ourselves. I have given orders. I could not have your visit disturbed by the possible intrusion of--neighbors." At this fresh mark of the woman's cordiality even the cold eyes began to melt. Von Salzinger was rapidly abandoning himself to the pleasure of the moment. This woman stirred the full depths of passion in him. None had stirred them more deeply. He admitted it, and, with his admission, he promised himself the harvest of the power that was his. He accepted a cup of tea and lit a cigar. "Then perhaps you have forgiven the--past?" he said, with assurance. Vita shrugged. But her smile was radiant. "We all make mistakes in--our inexperience." "Yes." The man sipped his tea noisily. Then for a moment he stirred it. "Tell me," he went on abruptly. "It is four years--nearly--since you told me all you felt about--espionage. It is a long time and much has happened. You have many friends here in England. Still you remain--simply the daughter of your father? Am I rude?" Vita had glanced over at him swiftly, seriously. "You see it is much to me, for--I came over to see you." He had taken care that she should have no misunderstanding of his meaning. She displayed no resentment, but her eyes lowered to the tea-things she was manipulating. The man abruptly sat forward in his chair. "I must say what is on my mind. It is my way, Vita. You know that of old. I saw you last night with a man, a stranger to me. And"--he smiled, and leant more urgently towards her,--"I was mad--mad with jealousy. I did not know him. I had no means of knowing him, since I have been isolated away on my command, and I thought, I felt convinced he was your--lover. Ach, it made me mad--mad. So I dared not delay. I must see you at once--at once and learn the truth from you. You must know, Vita, that I love you just as I have always loved you. All the rest--what is it? My position? Nothing. Nothing to compare with my love for you. Then my first sight of you after all this time is with that man--a good-looking man--in the car. You together--alone. I thought--oh, I was convinced he was your husband, and I--I could have killed him. Will you tell me of him? Is he? Is he your lover? You must tell me." Through her drooping lashes Vita was watching him. There was a curious manner in the man. He was not pleading. He was telling her of his feelings as though she had no alternative but to accept them. She was alarmed, but gave no sign.