She could not resist the subtle influence of the man, even while every instinct of good made her recoil from him. With a triumphant smile he bowed and said softly:
"Madam, a little while ago you asked me what I wanted. It was your invitation that I wanted. I thank you."
"But my husband," Olga said, already repenting of the advantage she had given him.
"Oh, he will be delighted to see me," the stranger assured her confidently. "He speculates in wheat; I have information that will be of value to him. The crop has turned out worse than was expected. You love your husband; you should be happy that the wheat crop is bad."
"I am," Olga assented. "We want wheat to be bad because the price will go up."
"Your husband will make another fortune, and you will have the new gown you want."
"How do you know I want a new gown?" Olga asked, falling in once more with the devil's humor of the man.
"I observe that you have a new hat, and a very pretty one; surely you want a new gown."
"You must be married."
"Married! not I," he exclaimed. "A wife is like a monocle; it looks well, but one sees more clearly without it."