“Not that, please,” I interposed, forcing a smile.
“I can never forget it,” she replied. “We shall not meet again, as you said; but I can never forget it.”
“May I ask one thing? If matters go with you so that you should ever have to leave the country, may I seek you again?”
“It is all sad for you—and for me, too, you know that—but it is kinder, if harder, not to give you groundless hope.”
“I shall never cease to hope.”
“I shall never leave my country,” she answered, earnestly.
“I am answered, but not convinced,” I replied, in quite as earnest a tone as hers; and then, to lighten the strain, I smiled and added: “If you will not leave it, I may have to leave mine and turn Serb.”
“I should have at least one loyal subject then, I am sure.”
As the words left her lips, the door opened and Colonel Petrosch returned.