asked Mrs. Ryves, with a tired smile which had the effect of putting
the whole story further and further away. The next moment, however,
she added quickly, as if with the sense that it couldn't be far
enough: "You don't know, you can't judge, you must let it settle.
Think of it, think of it; oh you will, and leave it so. I must have
time myself, oh I must! Yes, you must believe me."

She turned away from him, and he remained looking at her a moment.
"Ah, how I shall work for you!" he exclaimed.

"You must work for yourself; I'll help you." Her eyes had met his
eyes again, and she added, hesitating, thinking: "You had better
know, perhaps, who he was."

Baron shook his head, smiling confidently. "I don't care a straw."

"I do--a little. He was a great man."

"There must indeed have been some good in him."

"He was a high celebrity. You've often heard of him."

Baron wondered an instant. "I've no doubt you're a princess!" he
said with a laugh. She made him nervous.

"I'm not ashamed of him. He was Sir Dominick Ferrand."

Baron saw in her face, in a few seconds, that she had seen something
in his. He knew that he stared, then turned pale; it had the effect
of a powerful shock. He was cold for an instant, as he had just