"Exactly," he replied. "You smile because you do not understand. I offer you a dispensation for your divorce, and your son."
A little tremor seemed to pass through her whole frame. For a moment she closed her eyes. Then she sprang to her feet and stood quivering before him.
"This is one of your traps!" she exclaimed. "You don't mean it!"
"To prove that I do," he insisted, "I have brought Rudolf with me to Paris. He can be in your arms in a few minutes. Look into the street, if you will."
She crossed the room hastily and lifted the curtain. A low cry broke from her lips. In the tonneau of the great touring car outside a little boy was lying back amongst the cushions, asleep.
"He is tired," Falkenberg said slowly, with his eyes fixed upon the woman. "He has come all the way from Berlin without an hour's rest. Am I to take him back to-morrow? It is for you to decide."
Madame Christophor turned toward the door. Falkenberg barred the way.
"Not yet!" he declared. "Do you accept my terms?"
"But he is hungry!" she cried. "I can see that he is hungry! And he is so pale—let me fetch him in."
"Of course he is hungry," his father agreed. "He has also been asking me questions about you all the way. He believes that he is going to see you. I, too, believe that. You consent?"