She wanted to speak out, to tell him everything, and she felt as if she must lay her heart on his open palm so that nothing should be hidden from him. But humility and awe of his stupendous cleverness sealed her lips. "Why do you trouble yourself about an idiot like me?" she asked, in order to show at least how humble she was. "Because I may have a mission to fulfil in your life," he answered. "_Perhaps_, I say, for one never can tell what reflex action of the emotions may bring about. Certain psychological moments will show us." She did not understand the meaning behind this remark, but a timid feeling of happiness that so infinitely great a man should be generously interested in her crept over her. "You are in his power," she thought; "he can make of you anything he likes." As he drew her arm a little closer to his, her pressure in response brought his hand for a moment in contact with her bosom. She was overcome with terror that he might think she was throwing herself at his head. What if she went home with him, that he asked her ... "I will take the tram," she said hurriedly. "I am tired." He whistled for a cab, which was approaching out of the fog. "No, no!" she cried, with no other thought than that of preserving the gift of his friendship as it was, intact. "Not with you. I must go home alone. You know what people are; besides ..." She wrenched her arm out of his, and ran to the next stopping place so quickly that he could scarcely follow her before she had jumped on the first car that came up. The smile with which he looked after her was, however, not a disappointed one. He intended to triumph, and would triumph. Lilly Czepanek was once more travelling upwards to the heights. * * * * * Three days later they met again, but this time at a large social gathering. The party had come from a _cafe chantant_ in the northern part of the town, and were to wind up the evening in the private back room of a middle-class public-house. By an unlucky chance the seat she had carefully kept for him by her side fell to someone else's share. This put her out; but there was champagne to cheer up everyone. Lilly, out of defiance and boredom, drank far more than was good for her. Her eyes began to blaze with a challenging merriment; her cheeks took on the rosy-apple hue which all her friends delighted in. Her laughter became shriller, her movements more and more animated. Suddenly there was a loud call for "Lilly." Lilly was to perform. Her heart misgave her. Not once, as yet, had she dared to recite in his presence. Indeed, no one had thought of asking her when he was of the company, for he was always the centre of attraction. Then she felt, "To-day I can do anything--to-day I will show him what there is in me."