“You must ask me nothing of him; perhaps you will learn all there is to know one day. How strangely your fate has been linked with mine! Think of Yossof meeting you that night. He had heard of my danger from the League. Ah, that traitor, Selinski! How much his miserable soul had to answer for! And he did not know whom to trust, so he set out himself, though he speaks no word of any language but his own, and bribed and begged his way to London. He found out some of the League there, at a place in Soho, learned there where Selinski lived, stole the key to his rooms, and—met you. He is a marvel, the poor good Yossof!”
“Did you know it was he, when I described him that night?” I asked impulsively.
She looked up quickly.
“I have told you, I did not wish to entangle you in my affairs, and—”
The door opened and her cousin entered.
“Ah, you are engaged,” he exclaimed, glancing from one to the other of us.
“No, we have finished our chat,” said Anne. “Come and sit down, Stepán—for a few minutes only. We have much to do,—and far to go, to-night.”
How weary and wistful her face looked as she spoke!