The position between us seemed reversed. He stood by my side, pale and passionate, with his clear eyes full of a strange wistfulness.
"All that you say is, in a measure, true," he said in a low tone; "yet do not send me away from you! Some day you may see things differently; some day trouble may come to you, and I may be your helper! There is only one thing: I would have you look upon me as a brother, and I would have you give me a brother's confidence."
"I would gladly be friends with you," I answered, "only do not seek more than I choose to tell you. As for the things you charge me with, there is truth and falsehood in them. It is true that I have earned my living by dancing, but it has been in private only. Of course, you know nothing about it; how should you? But I am not a ballet dancer, as I believe you think."
"You are not upon the stage, then?"
"No! nor do I dance in short skirts! Some day I will give you an exhibition in this room! Now don't look like that," I added quickly; "I was only joking. I would not defile the air around your saintliness for the world! But I want to tell you this: my dancing is recognised as an art. I rank everywhere with the men and women who are called artists, the men and women who are ever striving to realize in some manner a particular ideal of beauty through different channels. The highest development of physical beauty in the human form is in grace of motion. I aim at the beautiful in illustrating this. I didn't know it myself until a great painter told me so, but I am beginning to understand. I don't expect you to; you must take it on trust."
"It sounds strange to me, but I do not doubt that there is truth, some truth in it," he admitted gravely.
"You and I look upon life, and all its connections, with different eyes," I continued. "What may seem sin to you, may be justified to me. Yet I will stoop to answer your unspoken question. As I was at Cruta, so I am now! It may be that I am better, for I have done a good action!"
He held up his hand, but I took no notice.
"I will tell it you. A few days ago, chance brought in my way a most unhappy woman. She had escaped from an odious captivity, only to find herself alone, friendless and penniless in a strange city. The man on whom she had counted for help she could not find. He had given her an address where she might always hear of him. Day by day she inquired there in vain. It may have been through no fault of his, but she was in sore straits."
"Her name?"