Stanton felt that it was necessary to convince her.
"I think the situation speaks for itself," he said. He, too, was calm now, for he felt that he had to resort to extreme measures. "The man leaves his own country, where he is successful, and comes here, and lives with the lowest of the low. Would a man do that if he were not—afraid—or in danger?"
Hélène's heart sank.
"Don't say any more, don't please!" She felt that her father had good reasons for speaking as he did.
"If you had only told me before," she said plaintively; "if you had only confided in me it would have saved so much suffering. Why didn't you speak before, father?"
Stanton shook his head.
"Very well, you—you shall be obeyed, father." she said in a low voice. "I'll tell him that you——"
"No," he interrupted quickly. "No! I don't wish him to know that I'm in any way cognisant of his presence here. Simply dismiss him and let him go. Above all, make him understand that he is never to come here again."
Hélène nodded. "If his coming here is likely to endanger his liberty, he must not come," she thought Stanton thanked her, but she did not hear his words. Silently, sorrowfully, she returned to the music room, where she found Von Barwig awaiting her.
The old man looked up as she entered the room. She came toward him and looked at him a few moments in silence. The same tender, gentle smile that had so endeared him to her from the first was on his face. She could not bear to look at him, so she turned her gaze away and spoke without seeing him.