“I am utterly at a loss to understand you, mademoiselle. God knows I am no enemy of yours, and would only too gladly be your friend if——”
“That is impossible, monsieur,” she interposed angrily, with the air of an empress. “Shall M. Boreski return?”
“I have been waiting for him,” said I, still mystified.
“I sent him away that I might speak to you of this.” She touched the bell as she spoke, and I noticed that she pushed it twice.
“I did not know that you were his principal,” I said.
“There are many things you do not know yet: as many indeed as you seem quite unwilling to remember, or anxious to forget.” She was very bitter.
“I assure you——”
“Is it necessary, monsieur?” she asked contemptuously, making one feel about as mean as a man could feel.
Until M. Boreski came in we said no more, and as he entered he shot a swift questioning glance at Helga.
“His Majesty is anxious to conclude the interview, M. Boreski.”