"Circumstances can alter the most determined. Are you not tired of this Pharisaical crowd, who pretend to look upon you as dirt because you do not pronounce their shibboleth as it pleases them? Are you not ready now to come amongst friends who wish you well—who would help you? You have only to say the word."
She looked about her, feeling her isolation like an icy wind, and for an instant knew temptation. How easy it would be to yield! What, after all, had he asked of her?—her friendship, common politeness for the woman who had shown her kindness. What had he offered her? His help and support in her loneliness and need. Then she remembered—and the temptation passed.
"My answer remains the same, Herr Rittmeister."
His face became suffused with a dull red.
"Gnädige Frau, take care! It is not only your brother who will suffer for your decision!"
She heard the angry threat in his voice, and a feeling of contempt and aversion, almost physical in its intensity, came over her. She looked about her, half unconsciously seeking some way of escape. Miles was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes flashed rapidly over the crowd, picking out the black evening coats, and then for the first time she saw Arnold. She went to meet him, regardless of prudence, of the rage in Bauer's eyes, of the malice and suspicion that watched her from every side. She only knew that a friend had come to her in the midst of enemies, and that she was no longer alone.
"Oh, Robert!" she cried. "How glad I am to see you! How did you manage to come here?"
"The Ambassador got me the invitation," he said, taking her hand in his strong clasp. "God knows it isn't the time to seek such hospitality, but I had to see you somehow, Nora, before I went."
"Let us get away from this crowd," she said hurriedly. "We can't talk here."
He gave her his arm and led her to one of the supper-tables that were placed beneath the gallery.