“You know.” Topham’s voice was not quite so steady. “Senorita,” he went on. “Let me tell you something of myself. I belong to an old Virginia family—one of the F. F. Vs., as they call us derisively. My people have lived in Virginia for nearly three hundred years, and nearly every one of them had a romance. My great grandparents eloped; my grandfather married my grandmother the day after he met her; my father wanted to marry my mother at first sight of her, but was compelled to wait a year—till he was nineteen. I understand that your heritage is similar; that your father stole your mother from the duke’s palace. Finally”—He paused and leaned forward.
“When I parted from you this morning I thought I could wait. I meant to see you again, but I thought—. But I was wrong. I can not leave you without speaking! When I saw you on the street I knew that I could not. Love has come to me suddenly, as it comes to all the men of my race—suddenly but for all time. I have played at love-making before. I did not know what love was. I thought—Good God! How could I have thought as I did? How could any man mistake water for wine, moonshine for sunshine?”
Very slowly and deliberately, he took the countess’ face between his palms and looked down at her. “Look at me, Elsa,” he said.
Slowly she lifted her starry eyes to his. He bent forward and their lips met. “That makes you mine,” he said slowly.
The countess said not a word, but she slipped slowly into his arms and nestled against his broad bosom. It was preposterous, ridiculous, incredible—this love-making; it was “so very American”, but—but—what the countess really thought about it would be hard to tell. Whether she was as mad as Topham or whether there was a purpose in her madness did not appear.
Topham tilted her perfect chin upward. “Doesn’t it?” he asked, with a shade of anxiety in his voice. “You love me? You will marry me—soon?”
Gently the countess freed herself; then she stood up and faced him. “Yes!” she said. “I love you, and I will marry you or no other man,” She stepped closer to him, and reaching up, placed both hands upon his shoulders and kissed him on the mouth. “Yes!” she repeated. “I will marry you—but not soon.”
“Why not? I am under orders. I must leave Berlin tonight. Will you come with me—or shall I resign from the Navy and stay with you?”
“Neither! I can not marry you—now. No! That is not true! I can, but I will not. I dare not.”
“Dare not! Who prevents—