"I beseech you to listen to me. Your father, Prince Samarov, was the enemy of Russia's freedom----'
"Because he believed in order," she broke in wildly, "instead of anarchy----"
"Because he was reactionary--" he paused with some show of delicacy, "because he was a traitor to the very causes you represent."
"That is not true. His cause is mine--the integrity of Russia as well as her freedom."
Khodkine smiled lightly.
"The old order passeth, Princess, and with it those who are not awake to the new issues."
"And what is the new order of things?" She returned with spirit. "A carefully planned disorder that Germany may triumph, a chase of will-o'-the-wisps through a mist of illusions. You speak of treachery; You----!" She stifled the scorn of her tongue with an effort, for the thought of the papers in her bodice warned her that she was coming to dangerous ground.
"You are trying to do me injustice, Princess," he said quietly, "but your very words fail you for lack of proof. That it was through my agency that Prince Samarov was thrown into prison is indeed a proof of my loyalty--for did I not know that in condemning him--" Khodkine's voice sank a note as he finished slowly, "that in condemning him I was losing my own heart's desire--the one woman in the world that I have ever loved--or can."
She glanced at him quickly but anger dominated.
"He was innocent of any connection with the Camarilla of Rasputin," she said in a tense voice. "He despised trickery--and you knew it."