"If it pleases you, Princess Samarov, we will descend at Tuttlingen."
She understood the meaning of the repetition of her name, but gave no sign that she was aware of it.
"Of course, Gregory Khodkine," she replied coldly, "I must do as you wish."
"Ah, my dear Tatyana," he urged, "do not say that. Rather tell me that you wish it also."
"I wish for nothing but my freedom."
He smiled at her pleasantly.
"How like a woman," he said, "to desire the one thing not in my power to grant. I cannot let you go. And if I did, here in Germany, your position would be precarious." He drove on in a moment of silence and then spoke more soberly. "Come. Be reasonable. Through no fault of my own we are enemies. It is very painful to me to feel that you are not in sympathy with my aims for Russia, but the very fact that I am right and you are wrong, makes me more generous toward you."
"Generous! Is this generosity----?"
"One moment, Princess Tatyana," he broke in as she paused. "You cannot forget, nor can I, that no matter what has passed between us, you had no right to condemn me unheard for what happened in Moscow. Prince Samaroff brought his fate upon himself. Nor had you the right to confide, without the consent of the Council of Nemi, in this absurd adventurer from America, to set him against the established authority, furnish him with the combination of the door which protected the money of the society that he might loot the vault for his own uses----"
"That is a lie," she muttered tensely.