"I am tired, monsieur," she gasped. "Will you take me back?"
"Madame, most unintentionally I have offended you. Let me beg forgiveness and ask how."
"No, no; no one has done wrong. I myself was—absurd. I am not angry, monsieur; only tired."
They walked back, Allard completely bewildered and uncomprehending. By her chair Iría paused and gave him her hand with a smile whose sweetness was beyond tears.
"Thank you, Monsieur Allard," she said. "Perhaps we shall still be friends over there. You are going home, but I go a stranger to a strange place; I meant no more than that."
She was like Theodora, Allard thought, deeply moved. Surely Stanief would be gentle with her gentleness.
The next morning they landed.