“Yes?”
“Certainly. You need a little rest—a little diversion. Let me help you out; there’s a sensible girl. Will you come over and spend part of the evening with me?”
His request had not been a bold one; he had made it seriously, and with no thought of himself. But Erna gave him a sharp look. He met her glance with an honest one and pursued: “I don’t want you to pose for the story, as I asked you yesterday—honestly, I don’t. I just want to amuse you a little, if I can. You need a bit of a change, even by having me supply it.”
This was approaching dangerously close to a soft advance, but Erna did not heed it. She was still busy trying to read Nielsen, but reading Nielsen was not so easy as appearances would have led one to believe. However, she was able to read humanity behind his lurking smile, and likewise his seriousness of purpose. “I don’t know,” she said in doubt.
“You’re not afraid?”
“No,” she admitted.
“Come ahead then. We’ll have a quiet little evening together, or you can tell me some more about your enemies, German and others. As for posing, I’ll do the posing, such as standing on my head, for example.”
Erna had always felt that Nielsen was human. It now come as a realization. She gave him a final penetrating glance. He smiled frankly, and she had to smile as well. “All right,” she resigned.
“You’re a good sport, Erna,” he complimented her. “But you’re too trusting, I’m afraid.”
“Think so?”