On the same day Parliament opened.
Helena’s yielding mood lasted and she grew more and more affectionate.
The period allowed for the introduction of new bills drew to a close.
One evening the professor came home from his club in an unusually gay frame of mind. He went to bed with his paper and his cigar. After a while he heard Helena’s door creak. Silence, lasting for a few minutes, followed. Then there came a knock at his door.
“Who is there?” he shouted.
“It’s I, Albert, do dress and come into the drawing-room, I want to speak to you.”
He dressed and went into the drawing-room.
Helena had lighted the chandelier and was sitting on the sofa, dressed in her lace morning-gown.
“Do forgive me,” she said, “but I can’t sleep. My head feels so strange. Come here and talk to me.”
“You are all unstrung, little girl,” said Albert, taking her hand in his own. “You ought to take some wine.”