He went over and looked down into the white, childish face. Faultless, serene, wonderful as a flower it seemed to him. Where the black lashes rested the curve of the cheek was faintly tinted with colour. All else was snowy save for the vivid rose of the scarcely parted lips. Nineteen!--and all those accomplishments which her dim living-room at Westheath had partly revealed--where books in many languages had silently exposed the mind that required them--where pictures, music--all the unstudied and charming disorder of this young girl's intimate habitation had delicately revealed its tenant. And what her living-room had foreshadowed was only, after all, but a tinted phantom of the girl he had come to know in the flesh--the real mistress of that dim room quickened to life--a warm, living, breathing reality, low-voiced, blue-eyed, winsome and sweet with the vague fragrance of youth incarnate clinging to her, to every gesture, every movement, every turn of her head--to her very skirts it seemed--youth, freshness, purity unblemished. As he stood there he tried to realize that she was German--this young girl with her low and charming English voice and her accentless English speech. He had listened in vain for any flaw, any indication of alien birth. Nothing betrayed her as a foreigner, except, possibly, a delightfully quaint formality in accepting any service offered. For when he asked her whether she desired this or that, or if he might do this or that for her, always her answer in the affirmative was, "Yes, please," like a little girl who had been carefully taught to respect age. It amused him; for modern English young women are less punctilious with modern youth. There came a dull clatter of crockery from the passageway; Guild turned and opened the door. The waiter produced a folding table, spread it, and arranged the dishes. "That will be all," whispered Guild. "Don't knock again; I'll set the tray outside." So the waiter went away and Guild closed the door again and turned back to the bed where Karen lay. Her delicate brows were now slightly knitted and the troubled curve of her lips hinted again of a slumber not wholly undisturbed by subconscious apprehension. "Karen," he said in a low voice. The girl opened her eyes. They had that starry freshness that one sees in the eyes of waking children. For a moment her confused gaze met his without expression, then a hot flush stained her face and she sat up hurriedly. Down tumbled the thick, burnished locks and her hands flew instinctively to twist them up. "I didn't realize that I had been asleep. Please, will you turn your back"--her glance fell on the table--"I shall be ready in a moment--Kervyn." "Had I not better give you the place to yourself?" "Yes, please." "I'll do a sentry-go in the corridor," he said. "Open the door when you're quite ready." So he went out and walked up and down until the stateroom door opened and her low voice summoned him. "I can't eat," she said.