“Gewiss nicht!” Then, with a swift change of expression, she clutched imploringly at his arm. “You will protect me? I am so alone and frightened!” She hesitated as though seeking a cognate circumstance in him that should compel his sympathy. “You are married?”
The polite smile went out of his face. His expression hardened.
“I was, gnädige Frau,” he replied, curtly.
She stared at him, divining that she had blundered upon some painful mystery. With feminine tact she steered quickly away from it into the region of safe commonplace. She threw open one of the doors leading into the hall.
“Here, meine Herren, is the Speisezimmer,” she said in a tone of colourless courtesy that contrasted with her emotion-charged voice of a moment before. “It is at your service for your meals. There,” she pointed to a door at the other side of the hall, “is the Salon—also at your service. I have had a fire lit in it. Your orderlies are now in the kitchen. I will send them to you to show you your rooms.” She inclined her head slightly in sign of farewell and passed out through a door at the end of the hall.
The young captain looked at his commanding officer.
“Eh bien, mon commandant? What did I tell you? Is she not——?”
His superior interrupted him, a twinkle in his eye.
“She is, mon cher Jordan—but you have not a chance against the doctor here!” He laughed, clapping the doctor on the back.