"So far good, Mademoiselle Vera. To what, then, do you refer? With one hand you seem to give me hope; with the other you take it away again. What is between us, Mademoiselle? I am rich, I love you as I have never loved woman. Is not this enough for you? What stands between us?"
"Perhaps everything and perhaps nothing," said Vera with a great sigh. "You say you love me; God forgive me, for I know well that I ought to reject your love, yet I hesitate to reject it."
"Why then," exclaimed Paul joyously—he was about to take her to his arms, but Vera waved him away. "Why, what do you mean, Vera?" he continued impatiently. "Why must God forgive you because I love you? I am not a leper; you will easily be forgiven! Explain—you madden me."
"Can you not understand, Monsieur? See, I allow you to say 'I love you'—yet you are the enemy of my country; what will be said of me if it is known that I have done this shameful thing? To have submitted to be loved by one who is about to invade the land of my fathers——"
"Well—but—Mademoiselle, for God's sake let us understand one another," cried Paul, "Here stand I, professing to love you. Am I not to be loved again because I am a soldier of Napoleon? As soon I might say that I must not love a subject of Alexander. Your patriotism is delightful; I love you the better for it, but your conclusion is ridiculous."
"What would you have, Paul? I do not know my own mind. I like you; it is possible that one day I may be able to say that I love you. I am young; I am not yet sure what is love and what is 'like'. Is it not enough?"
"No, a thousand times no! I must possess you—hold you—caress you—release you only when the last moment arrives, under promise that when we meet in Moscow——"
This was an unfortunate remark on Paul's part. Vera fired up instantly, receding a step or two from him, for Paul had approached and held her tenderly by the elbows, ready to take her to his arms if permitted to do so.
"When we meet in Moscow?" she cried. "God send that may never be, never, never! Sooner I would never see you again than meet you, as you suggest, in Moscow. Do you think I do not realise what you mean by meeting in Moscow? I tell you, Paul, God forbid that I meet you there!"
Paul recoiled a little, abashed. "I apologise, Mademoiselle," he said; "of course I should not have permitted myself to use so foolish an expression. When the war is over, I should have said."