"Judging by the look of things between here and the hotel, we shall not be worried by a crowd," broke in Spencer. "I meant to arrive half an hour earlier; but that slope on the Alp Ota offers surprising difficulties in the dark." "I wished to say, when you interrupted me, that I am leaving at once, so my presence can make little difference to you," said Helen grandly. "That sounds more reasonable than it really is," was the quietly flippant reply. "It conveys my intent. I have no desire to prolong this conversation," she cried rather more flurriedly. "Now, there I agree with you. We have started on the wrong set of rails. It is my fault. I ought to have coughed, or fallen down the moraine, or done any old thing sooner than butt into the talk so unexpectedly. If you will allow me, I'll begin again right now." He turned to the Italians, who were watching and listening in curious silence, trying to pick up an odd word that would help to explain the relations between the two. "Will you gentlemen take an interest in the scenery for five minutes?" he asked, with a smile. Though the valley of the Adda may have lost its wine, it will never lose its love of romance. The polite Italians raised their hats and went out. Helen, drawing a long breath, withdrew somewhat into the shadow. She felt that she would have more command over herself if the American could not see her face. The ruse did not avail her at all. Spencer crossed the floor of the hut until he looked into her eyes. "Helen," he said, "why did you run away from me?" The tender reproach in his voice almost unnerved her; but she answered simply, "What else would you have me do, once I found out the circumstances under which I came to Switzerland?" "It may be that you were not told the truth. Who was your informant?" "Mr. Bower." "None other?" "What, then? Is my pitiful story the property of the hotel?" "It is now. I took care of that. Some of the people there had been spreading a misleading version, and it was necessary to correct it. The women, of course, I could not deal with. As the General was an old man, I picked out George de Courcy Vavasour as best fitted to digest the wrong edition. I made him eat it. It seemed to disagree with him; but he got through with an effort." Helen felt that she ought to decline further discussion. But she was tongue tied. Spencer was regarding her so fixedly that she began to fear lest he might notice the embarrassed perplexity that she herself was quite conscious of. "Will you be good enough to explain exactly what you mean?" she said, forcing the question mechanically from her lips.