"I can not see very well from over there," he explained.
"It is not necessary that you should see; you can hear what I have to
say."
"Very well; I'll go back." And he did. He made a fine pretense of
looking out of the window. Why should this girl cross his path at this
unhappy moment?
There was a pause.
"You are not near so nice as you were this morning," she said presently.
"I can't be nice and sit away over here."
"What made you jump into this compartment, of all others?"
"I wasn't particular what compartment I got into so long as I got into
one. As I said, I was in a hurry."
"You said nothing this morning about going away from Barscheit."
"Neither did you."
Another pause. (I take it, from the character of this dialogue, that
their morning rides must have been rather interesting.)
"You told me that you were in Barscheit to study nerves,"--wickedly.
"So thought I, up to half-past nine to-night; but it appears that I am
not,"--gloomily.
"You are running away, too?"--with suppressed eagerness.
"Running away, too!" he repeated. "Are _you_ running away?"
"As fast as ever the train can carry me. I am on the way to Dresden."
"Dresden? It seems that Fate is determined that we shall travel
together this day. Dresden is my destination also."
"Let me see your passports,"--extending a firm white hand.
He obeyed docilely, as docilely as though he were married. She gave
the paper one angry glance and tossed it back.
"George Ellis; so that is your name?"--scornfully. "You told me that
it was Scharfenstein. I did not ask you to tell me your name; you took
that service upon yourself." She recalled the duke's declaration that
he should have her every movement watched. If this American was
watching her, the duke was vastly more astute than she had given him
the credit for being. "Are you in the pay of the duke? Come, confess
that you have followed me, that you have been watching me for these
four days." How bitter the cup of romance tasted to her now! She had
been deceived. "Well, you shall never take me from this train save by
force. I _will_ not go back!"
"I haven't the slightest idea of what you are talking about," he said,
mightily discouraged. "I never saw this country till Monday, and never
want to see it again."
"From what are you running away then?"--skeptically.
"I am running away from a man who slapped me in the face,"--bitterly;
and all his wrongs returned to him.