"And do you forgive me for--for----"
She raised her head and looked past him toward the lighted windows.
"What does it matter, Monsieur," she said coldly, "whether I forgive or not? Come." And moving quickly she led the way toward the house while Rowland followed, still certain that however clever he thought himself he felt a good deal of a fool.
Khodkine pacing the floor of his room upstairs awaited Rowland's coming impatiently, but with an effort composed his features in a smile as the American appeared.
"Ah, Monsieur," he said. "It is too bad that I should feel it necessary to interrupt your tête-à-tête with Madame Rochal, who as we all know is the most charming woman in the world. But the President of Nemi is not a free agent. There are matters requiring your attention in conference with me."
"Of course."
"Then I may go, Monsieur?" asked Tanya from the doorway.
"Yes. Go," said Khodkine with an abstracted wave of his hand and a peremptory tone which made a frown gather at Rowland's brow. Gone were Monsieur Khodkine's soft accents of greeting and his courtly bow. And Tanya seemed in awe of him, her look hanging upon his commands. Rowland remembered the agitation in her manner when she had come to summon him to this conference. Had Khodkine frightened her tonight? And how? Why? Was there something between them, some threat of Russian for Russian, born of politics or intrigue in which Khodkine played the master hand? Or was it something nearer, more personal...? It seemed curious to Rowland that he should be thinking of this for the first time. He had formed his first impression of Tanya there last night in the garden, when clad in her cowl and robes she had seemed so abstracted from the world outside. "A very inferior Mother Superior," as she had called herself, and by this token secluded but very human. He had considered the fact of her extraordinary beauty merely as a fortunate accident, and having dismissed her relations with Ivanitch from his mind, had dismissed all other sentimental possibilities--all, that is, except his own. A love affair--of course. With Khodkine? Perhaps. And yet that would hardly explain the Russian's attitude toward her tonight--or hers toward him. The one thing that seemed to rise uppermost in Rowland's mind was Tanya's fear of Khodkine ... As he joined the Russian at the table by the lamp, he found himself examining Monsieur Khodkine with a new interest and a new antipathy.
"I have here some documents requiring your attention, in order that you may familiarize yourself with the order of business tomorrow when our circle is complete. The report of Herr Liederman from the Socialists of Germany, that of Mademoiselle Colodna from Rome, appeals from Shestov and Barthou. You will read them tonight, Monsieur?"
"Willingly. But this, Monsieur Khodkine, was not why you interrupted my tête-à-tête in the garden," said Rowland slowly. "You had another motive."