He was curious. He knew for certain that it was not Kashtanova, but who was it then? The Geisha obeyed. Bengalsky saw an unfamiliar, smooth face, on which fright was giving place to an expression of joy at an escaped danger. A pair of cheerful eyes gazed at the actor's face.
"How can I thank you?" said the Geisha in a clear voice. "What would have become of me, if you hadn't saved me?"
"She's no coward. An interesting little woman!" thought the actor. "But who is she?"
It was obvious that she was a new arrival; Bengalsky knew the women of the district. He said quietly to Sasha:
"I must take you home at once. Give me your address and I'll call a cabby."
The Geisha's face again became dark with fear.
"You mustn't, you simply mustn't," she whispered. "I will go home alone. Let me down here."
"But how can you go home in such mud and with those wooden shoes. You'd better let me call a cab," said the actor persuasively.
"No, I'll go by myself. For God's sake let me down," entreated the Geisha.
"I give you my word of honour I won't tell anyone," said Bengalsky reassuringly. "I mustn't let you go, you'll catch cold. I'm responsible for you now, and I can't let you go. But tell me quickly—they might get after you even here. You saw what savages they are. They're capable of anything."