Vita nodded sympathetically up at the passionate face.

"And you came to London, and," she added subtly, "you left your enemies behind you."

The man flung his cigar end in among the glowing logs with a vicious gesture.

"Some of them," he cried fiercely. Then he abruptly recovered himself. He began to laugh. The change was awkward, and the cunning that crept into his eyes was perfectly apparent to Vita. "Yes, I leave them behind me, where we are told to put all evil things. London is safer for me—at present. Besides, does it not bring me to your side?"

Vita had learned all she wanted to know in his brief admission. "Some of them," he had flung at her in his unguarded moment. The rest of it had no interest for her. She rose from her chair, and forced herself to a radiant smile.

"You are too deep for me, Ludwig," she cried, purposely using the intimate form of address. "But no one realizes your capacity better than I. I have known you so long. You will fight your battles successfully I am sure. Must you be going?"

The man was left without alternative. He had not thought of departure yet. He hesitated. Then he finally held out a hand. Vita only too readily responded. In a moment his hot clasp smothered hers. His eyes narrowed as they held hers, and the woman gathered something of the threat behind them.

"It is not good to be my enemy," he said unpleasantly. "Those who make an enemy of me will howl for mercy before I finish with them." Then his manner lightened to a tone Vita feared even more than the other. "But why talk of these things? I only think of you—dream of you. And some day," he went on, still retaining her hand in his, "you will be—kind to me. Eh? Is it not so? Surely—for it is our fate. And what a fate for any man, my Vita—my beautiful Vita. It will be—wonderful, wonderful."

The woman withdrew her hand sharply. She could stand no more of it. A growing terror was taking possession of her. Von Salzinger laughed as he released her hand with a final pressure. "It is good-bye now, but I shall come again, and then—again."

Vita was standing before the fire gazing down into its ruddy depths. The tea-things had been removed, and she was alone. She was glad. She was relieved. But she was not dissatisfied on the whole.