Noll took her to her poor room on the fifth story where was her threadbare home.
At the threshold she asked him in.
He smiled.
He took her pathetic face between his two hands, and kissed her upon the wan cheek:
“No, Hélène,” he said—“I love another woman.”
She turned and went into her room.
As he descended the stair she came out to him again:
“Will you be at The Golden Sun to-night?” she asked—her lips a little anxious and apart—beautiful lips.
He hesitated—pondered—smiled:
“Yes,” he said.