“Don't say that.” She closed her eyes painfully. “I shan't trouble you or any one much longer. I shall soon be so still. When one's sure of that, it's good to be loved just once again, even though—” She turned slowly and faced him. “I don't need to tell you who it is that I love truly. This man—he's nothing. No man ever will—— You see I've lived for men and admiration—for things like—” She pointed to the roses. “It's new to me to be neglected. So it's comforting to know that a man can still desire me, even though I'd rather kill myself than go with him.”
He broke the silence that had settled between them. “You mustn't talk like this. You've years of life before you. I'll get you away safely.”
She smiled. “No.” Then she changed the subject. “What happened to you?”
“You mean at my conference?” He seated himself beside her dressing-table. “The worst that could have happened—nothing. Some change has taken place for which I can't account. When I sent my suggestions from America, they were hailed with enthusiasm. I was a saviour—everything that's splendid and extravagant. But now—— The Government's paralyzed. It isn't a Government; it's a passenger. 'You've let us starve too long. It doesn't matter now—' that's what I was told this morning. The ministers with whom I consulted spoke as if they were sitting on the edge of a volcano, waiting to be blown up. They're so sure that an eruption's inevitable that they don't consider it worth while to make an effort to save themselves. I couldn't rouse them. When I pressed them for the cause of their lethargy, they prophesied a new war, in very much the same words as Captain Lajos—a war in which the well-fed are to be pillaged by the starving.”
“But did you tell them that you could ship food into Austria at once?”
“I told them. I assured them that I could put Austria back on her feet in twelve months. I offered to provision her and to supply coal for her factories, if they'd give me control of the railroads and a per capita percentage on the total increase of national industry. 'Provision us with pleasure' was their attitude; 'we'll raise no official objection.' 'Very kind of you,' I replied; 'but where do I come in. I'm no philanthropist.'” He brought his fist down with a bang on the dressing-table. “There's a nigger in the wood-pile. Upon my soul, I believe those fellows are determined that I shan't prevent their nation from dying. If I shipped them the food as a gift, they'd burn it.”
She came over from the window and stood gazing down at him. “You're right. They would if they dared. Can't you guess?”
“I can't. Their currency's hardly worth the paper it's printed on. People are dropping dead in the streets—I saw them. Their gaols are packed with children turned criminals through hunger. There'll be no crops next year; the grain's consumed that should have been saved for the sowing. They've butchered all their live-stock. The brains of the country are in exile. The intellectual classes have been wiped out. And here I come with my offer to save them, and they reject it. Without the help of some outside force like myself, things can only go from bad to worse.”
“Precisely.”
He glanced up, irritated by the promptitude of her agreement. “Precisely! Why do you say that?”