"I do care--more than I did. Can you explain it?" He was silent, surprised and touched. "I can't explain it to myself," she said. "I have been trying to and I can't. I should detest you, but I don't. If there is any contempt it is for myself--because I can not feel it for you, perhaps. I think it's that. I don't know. The years we have lived together in these two days must account for my liking you.... Not altogether, because it began in the beginning when you came to Hyacinth Villa.... And it's been so all the time." "Not all the time. Not in our stateroom." "Yes--even there." "When I----" "Yes! Yes! Isn't it degrading? Isn't it unaccountable--terrible! I'm frightened I tell you. I am afraid that whatever you do--will not--change me." There was no emotion in her young voice, only an accentless admission of facts with a candour and directness that silenced him. After a moment she went on, without emphasis, and thoughtfully, as though in self-communion to make things clearer to herself: "I'm really well born. You might be pardoned for not thinking so----" "Your father is of that caste." "General von Reiter is not my father." "What!" he exclaimed, astounded. She turned her face from his shoulder and looked up at him. "He spoke to you of me as his daughter. You spoke to me of him in that relation, too. I did not enlighten you because it did not seem to matter. But it is not true." "Is he--your guardian?" "No; I need none. My father was a German officer--of that caste. My mother was Danish.... Something happened--I do not know what. I was very little. And my mother would never speak of it. She was very beautiful. I remember her quite well. We lived in Copenhagen. "Whatever happened occurred before I was born. I know that. Mother told me. My father dropped both title and name and left the army and went with my mother to Copenhagen. He took the name of his mother who was English--Girard. I never was even told what our name had been. Neither father nor mother would ever speak of it." She rested there silent, absent-eyed, gazing into space as though recalling years that had not been unpleasant. Then, serenely meeting his gaze, she smiled up at him. "You know," she said, "my life has been a happy one. My father was a man of means. We lived very happily in Denmark. I've always thought of myself as Danish. "My childhood was really wonderful. I had a passion for study, for learning; and I learn very easily--almost without effort. And you know, perhaps, how thorough the Danish schools are, how much they demand of a child, physically as well as mentally. "And I did everything, Kervyn; learned the accomplishments of a young Danish girl--and was flattered I am afraid, and perhaps spoiled. "And always I desired to go on the stage--always--from the very beginning--from the time I was first taken to the theatre.