You asked me if I would. I
will--won't you tell me? Is he here--in the city--?"
"You must not ask me these questions," he said with some evidence of
agitation.
But even as he spoke, he saw knowledge dawn painfully on her face. His
shelter, after all, was too small; once her glance turned that way, once
her mind started upon conjectures, discovery had been inevitable.
"Oh!" she cried, in a choked voice.... "It is Professor Nicolovius!"
He looked at her steadily; no change passed over his face. When all was
said, he was glad to have the whole truth out; and he knew the secret to
be as safe with her as with himself.
"No one must know," he said sadly, "until his death. That is not far
away, I think."
She dropped into a chair, and suddenly buried her face in her hands.
Surface's son had risen with her, but he did not resume his seat. He
stood looking down at her bowed head, and the expression in his eyes, if
she had looked up and captured it, might have taken her completely by
surprise.
His chance, indeed, had summoned him, though not for the perfect
sacrifice.
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