"Certainly," Leo replied, feeling that he was not used yet to the distasteful game he was pledged to play in the eyes of his unsuspecting friend. "Then let me go in to her, and you wait out here. Forgive me," he added, "but unless it is her desire, I cannot permit you to enter the house consecrated to her honour." Leo nearly crushed his hand in his own, but he hadn't the courage to meet the eyes that rested on him with their fiery brilliance melting into tenderness. He watched him disappear behind the statue of peace. He fixed his gaze absently on the marble woman, who seemed to hold out her palm-branch towards him with a friendly gesture. Then he began to pace up and down the forecourt with long strides. He dared not think of what was going on indoors at that moment. Quarter of an hour passed, when Ulrich, glowing from excitement, his long neck eagerly thrust forward, came out. "Leo?" "Well, old fellow." "It was difficult, Leo, but she gives her consent." "Thank you, a hundred times, Uli," he stammered, and blushed like a lying schoolboy. "So far, she has only one end in view," Ulrich continued. "That is, to send you home humiliated and wretched. But you must see what you can do with her, my boy, and think of the fever I am in meanwhile." Yes, he really was feverish. His hands trembled, and the blood throbbed in his temples. He led the way, and Leo pushed quickly past him; secure already of victory, but as full of dread and shame as if he had been defeated. He found her stretched on a lounge, her face buried in the cushions. She appeared to have sunk down there after the mental excitement of the last quarter of an hour. A tea-gown of primrose-coloured, coarse-fibred silk hung about her limbs in _negligée_ folds. His diamond flashed on the hand which she held out to him without changing her position. "Shut the door," she whispered. He obeyed. Then she lifted her face for the first time. Her eyes were red from crying. "How had she been able to manufacture tears for this farce?" he asked himself. "Oh, I was so ashamed of myself," she murmured. Ah! she had been ashamed; that would account for it. And he began to console her. He told her this horrible hour must be got over.... Later, of course, there would be no more double dealing; every action of theirs must pass above-board before Ulrich's eyes. "That was understood before," she exclaimed, offended that he had thought it necessary to remind her. And in the midst of her distress she smiled at him--a coy, happy smile. "Now he thinks that we----" she began. Her sentence did not end, but there was something in her broken words that made the blood mount hotly to his brow. "That's bad enough," he growled, and turned his back. There was a silence. He drew out his watch, and studied the hands. "I thank you, Leo, for coming to-day," she began again shyly, after a little while. "Didn't you expect me, then?" he asked.