"We shall meet to-night, perhaps, at Carlton House Terrace at the German
Embassy," he said, "and then we can settle everything."
Amaryllis wondered why she felt rather excited as she walked up the stairs—she had often thought of Verisschenzko, and hoped he would come to England. He was vivid and living and would help her to balance herself. She had thought while she dressed that her life had been one stupid rush with no end, since that night when they had talked of serious things at the Montivacchini hôtel. She had need of the counsel he had promised to give her, for this heedless racket was not adding lustre to her soul.
Verisschenzko seemed to find her very soon—he was not one of those persons who miss things by vagueness. His yellow-green eyes were blazing when they met hers, and without any words he offered her his arm, foreign fashion, and drew her out on to the broad terrace to a secluded seat he had apparently selected beforehand, as there was no hesitancy in his advance towards this goal.
He looked at her critically for an instant when they were seated in the soft gloom.
"You are changed, Madame. Half the soul is awake now, but the other half has gone further to sleep."
"—Yes, I felt you would say that—I do not like myself," and she sighed.
"Tell me about it."
"I seem to be drifting down such a useless stream—and it is all so mad and aimless, and yet it is fun. But every one is tired and restless and nobody cares for anything real—I am afraid I am not strong enough to stand aside from it though, and I wonder sometimes what I shall become."
Verisschenzko looked at her earnestly—he was silent for some seconds.
"Fate may alter the atmosphere. There are things hovering, I fear, of which you do not dream, little protected English bride. Perhaps it is good that you live while you can."