"Paul--foolish one!" she said. "Do you not think I understand and know you--and your quaint English ways? But imagine how silly it is. I am quite aware that you have ample money to provide me with a feast of Midas--all of gold--if necessary, and you shall some day, if you really wish. But to stop over paltry sums of francs, to destroy the thread of our conversation and thoughts--to make it all banal and everyday! That is what I won't have. Dmitry is there for nothing else but to _éviter_ for me these details. It is my holiday, my pleasure-day, my time of joy. I felt young, Paul. You would not make one little shadow for me--would you, _ami?_" No voice that he had ever dreamt of possessed so many tones in it as hers--even one of pathos, as she lingered over the word "shadow," All his annoyance melted. He only felt he would change the very mainspring of his life if necessary to give her pleasure and joy. "Of course I would not make a shadow,--surely you know that," he said, moved. "Only you see a man generally pays for a woman's food." "When she belongs to him--but I don't belong to you, baby Paul. You, for the day, belong to me--and are my guest!" "Very well, then, we won't talk about it," he said, resigned by the caress in her words. To belong to her! That was something, if but for one day. "Only it must never come up again, this question", she insisted. "Should we spend more hours on this lake, or other lakes--or mountains, or rivers, or towns--let us speak never of money, or paying. If you only knew of how I hate it! the cruel yellow gold! I have heaps of it--heaps of it! and for it human beings have always paid so great a price. Just this once in life let it bring happiness and peace." He wondered at the concentrated feeling she expressed. What could the price be? And what was her history?" "So it is over, our little breeze," she said gently, after a pause. "And you will tease me no more, Paul?" "I would never tease you!" he exclaimed tenderly. And, if he had dared, he would have taken her hand. "You English are so wonderful! Full of your prejudices," she said in a contemplative way. "Bulldog tenacity of purpose, whether you are right or wrong. Things are a custom, and they must be done, or it is not 'playing the game,'" and she imitated a set English voice, her beautiful mouth pursed up, until Paul had to use violent restraint with himself to keep from kissing it. "A wonderful people--mostly gentlemen and generally honest, but of a common sense that is disastrous to sentiment or romance. If you were not so polished, and lazy and strong--and beautiful to look at, one would not consider you much beyond the German." "Not consider us beyond a beastly German!" exclaimed Paul indignantly. And the lady laughed like a child. "Oh! you darling Paul!" she said. "You dear, insular, arrogant Englishman! You have no equal in the world!" Paul was offended. "If you had said an Austrian now--but a German--" he growled sulkily.