"Ah, don't laugh about it. You mustn't laugh about certain things. You'll make me think less of you."
"I was only being gauche," he apologized. "Yes, tell me her story."
So Sylvia told him the sad history, and when she had finished asked his advice about Queenie.
"You were talking just now about your country as if she were a child," she said, eagerly. "You were imagining her individuality and independence destroyed. I feel the same about this girl. I want to make her really English. Do you think that I shall be able to get her a passport? We're saving up our money now to go to England."
Philidor said he did not know much about English regulations, but that he could not imagine that any consul would refuse to help when he heard the story.
"And the sooner you leave Rumania the better. Look here. I'll lend you the money to get home."
Sylvia shook her head.
"No, because that would interfere with my part of the story. I've got to get back without help. I have a strong belief that if I accept help I shall miss my destiny. It's no good trying to argue me out of a superstition, for I've tried to argue myself out of it a dozen times and failed. No, if you want to help me, come and talk to me every night and open a bottle or two of champagne to keep the manager in a good temper; and stand by me if there's ever a row. I won't answer for myself if I'm alone and I hear things said like what was said to-night."
Philidor promised he would do that for her as long as he was quartered in Bucharest, and presently Queenie came back.
"Don't look so frightened. I'm sorry I was cross to you just now."