"Are—are you a spy, then?" Dick asked.
"Of a sort, yes."
"A German?"
A look of mad passion swept over her face.
"A German!" she cried. "Heaven forbid. No, no. I hate Germany. I hate the accursed war that Germany caused. And yet, no. The war was a necessity. The destruction of the old bad past was a necessity. And we must use the mad chaos the war has created to build a new heaven and create a new earth. What are nationalities, peoples, country boundaries, man-made laws, but the instruments of the devil to perpetuate crime, brutality, misery, devilry?"
Dick shook his head. "You go beyond me," he said. "What you say has no appeal for me."
"Ah, but it has," she cried; "that is why I want to talk with you. That is why I hail you as a comrade—yes, and more than a comrade. I have followed your career; I have read your speeches. Ah, you did not think, did you, when you spoke to the people in the grimy north of this country about better laws, better conditions—ay, and when you made them feel that all the people of every country should be one vast brotherhood—that your words were followed, eagerly followed, by a Russian girl whose heart thrilled as she read, and who longed to meet you face to face?"
"You read my speeches? You longed to see me?" gasped Dick.
"Every word I read, Mr. Faversham; but I saw, too, that you were chained by cruel tradition, that you were afraid of the natural and logical outcome of your own words. But see, we cannot talk here!" and she glanced towards the people who had come up to them, and were listening eagerly.
"Come, my friend," whispered Mr. Brown, "you are honoured beyond all other men. I never knew her speak to any man as she speaks to you. Let us go to a place where I will take you, where we can be alone. Is she not a magnificent creature, eh? Did you ever see such a divine woman?"