"Partly perhaps--partly a rather frightened girl, still quivering from a sequence of blows----" "Remembering all the other blows that have marked almost every year of my life!--But those would not count--if I were not selfish, dishonest, and a coward." His hand closed slightly over hers; for a moment or two the pressure left her restless, ill at ease; but she made no movement. And gradually the contact stirred something within her to vague response. A strange sense of rest subtly invaded her; and she remained silent and motionless, looking down at the still lake below. "What _is_ the barrier?" he asked quietly. "There is no barrier to your friendship--if you care to offer it, now that you know me." "But I _don't_ know you. And I care for more than your friendship even after the glimpse I have had of you." "I--care only for friendship, Mr. Quarren." "_Could_ you ever care for more?" "No.... I don't wish to.... There _is_ nothing higher." "_Could_ you--if there were?" But she remained silent, disturbed, troubled once more by the light weight of his hand over hers which seemed to be awaking again the new senses that his touch had discovered so long ago--and which had slumbered in her ever since. Was this acquiescence, this listless relaxation, this lassitude which was becoming almost painful--or sweet--she did not understand which--was this also a part of friendship? Was it a part of anything intellectual, spiritual, worthy?--this deepening emotion which, no longer vague and undefined, was threatening her pulses, her even breathing--menacing the delicate nerves in her hand so that already they had begun to warn her, quivering---- She withdrew her hand, sharply, and straightened her shoulders with a little quick indrawn breath. "I've got to tell you something," she said abruptly--scarcely knowing what she was saying. "What, Strelsa?" "I'm going to marry Langly Sprowl. I've said I would." Perhaps he had expected it. For a few moments the smile on his face became fixed and white, then he said, cheerfully: "I'm going to fight for you all the same." "What!" she exclaimed, crisply. "Fight hard, too," he added. "I'm on my mettle at last." "You have no chance, Mr. Quarren." "With--_him_?" He shrugged his contempt. "I don't consider him at all----" "I don't care to hear you speak that way!" she said, hotly. "Oh, I won't. A man's an ass to vilify his rival. But I wasn't even thinking of him, Strelsa. My fight is with you--with your unknown self behind that barrier. _Garde à vous!_" "I decline the combat, Monsieur," she said, trying to speak lightly. "Oh, I'm not afraid of _you_--the _visible_ you that I'm looking at and which I know something about. That incarnation of Strelsa Leeds will fight me openly, fairly--and I have an even chance to win----" "Do you think so?" she said, lip between her teeth. "Don't you?" "No." "I do.... But it's your unknown self I'm afraid of, Strelsa. God alone knows what it may do to both of us."