She sat down and gestured him to a chair before her. “I, too, have heard from Shimilin—about the car. But I shall not go.” Peter’s face showed his disappointment. He had hoped that she might be induced to leave Chita, and by getting away from the scene of her father’s death and her old home, her memory of why Peter had gone to the city would be dimmed. Now he saw that she was determined to let him go his way—she wanted to see him no more, she wanted to forget him. And yet, he remembered, she had told him she loved him! He wondered if it were possible that she had admitted a love only because she wanted to save her father. Was that what she had meant when she said she had done with playing at being a samovar girl? That she had done with duplicity because there was no further necessity for duping him? “It is a pity that you will not go,” he said wearily. He regretted that he had asked to see her at all, for he suspected that she was inclined to laugh at him now because as a samovar girl she had been able to deceive him so thoroughly. “At least, I shall not go now,” she said. “Perhaps later—for there will be nothing to keep me here now.” “Then come!” he pleaded, leaning forward, and holding out his hand. “I know what there is between us—Katerin. I know now how wrong I was about your father—I can claim no credit for having helped you the little I did—I want no credit—but I was blind with hate for the old régime. Now I wish to help you——” He stopped and shook his head, seeing that he was not giving her help to get away from the city—Shimilin had already done that if he had offered her the use of the private car. It struck him now that perhaps her suggestion that she might leave later had something to do with his going now—she did not want to travel with him. She sat tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair and looking at the rings on her hand, reflectively, yet with something that told she had already made up her mind as to what she should do and that they were talking to no purpose. “I tell you,” he began again. “I shall not go with the car, if you will consent to leave for Vladivostok. If you prefer that I should not——” “No, you must not stay here,” she said. “But I shall stay if you do not go!” he cried. She gave him a startled look. “Stay? Why, you cannot stay here always. I thought you came to say good-by.” He stood up. “If you wish it, it shall be good-by,” he said. “But I am not going away.” “You must not be absurd,” she said, and stood up also, a faint trace of color in her cheeks. “Why should you remain here?” “Because I care for your safety, that’s why! I promised your father that I would protect you and——” She tossed her head back, and regarded him through half-closed lids. “You may consider yourself released from that promise,” she said. “You owe no debt—do not trouble yourself on that score, because——”