She smiled. How a woman loves this simple kind of flattery! It tells
her better what she may wish to know than a thousand hymns sung in
praise of her beauty.
But even as he spoke a chill of horror went over Max. He put his hand
hurriedly into his vest-pocket. Fool! Ass! How like a man! In
changing his clothes at the consulate he had left his money, and all he
had with him was some pocket change.
The girl saw his action and read the sequence in the look of dismay
which spread over his face.
"You have no money either?" she cried. She separated the packet of
notes into two equal parts. "Here!"
He smiled weakly.
"Take them!"
"No, a thousand times, no! I have a watch, and there's always a
pawnbroker handy, even in Europe."
"You offered to help me," she insisted.
"It is not quite the same."
"Take quarter of it."
"No. Don't you understand? I really couldn't."
"One, just one, then!" she pleaded.
An idea came to him. "Very well; I will take one." And when she gave
it to him he folded it reverently and put it away.
"I understand!" she cried. "You are just going to keep it; you don't
intend to spend it at all. Don't be foolish!"
"I shall notify my friend, when we reach Doppelkinn, that I am without
funds, and he will telegraph to Dresden."
"Your friends were very wise in sending you away as they did. Aren't
you always getting into trouble?"
"Yes. But I doubt the wisdom of my friends in sending me away as they
did,"--with a frank glance into her eyes. How beautiful they were, now
that the sparkle of mischief had left them!
She looked away. If only Doppelkinn were young like this! She sighed.
"Can they force one to marry in this country?" he asked abruptly.
"When one is in my circumstances."
He wanted to ask what those circumstances were, but what he said was:
"Is there anything I can do to help you?"
"You are even more helpless than I am,"--softly. "If you are caught
you will be imprisoned. I shall only suffer a temporary loss of
liberty; my room will be my dungeon-keep." How big and handsome and
strong he looked! What a terrible thing it was to be born in purple!
"Tell me about yourself."
His hand strayed absently toward his upper vest-pocket, and then fell
to his side. He licked his lips.
"Smoke!" she commanded intuitively. "I said that you might."
"I can talk better when I smoke," he advanced rather lamely. "May I,
then?"--gratefully.