He was steering with infinite skill. In that
room full of dancers no one touched Maggie's elbow or the swing of her
dress, and she, who knew what such things meant, smiled as she noted it.
"I have been asked to go and stay at Osterno," she said. "Shall I go?"
"By whom?"
"By Paul."
"Then go," said Steinmetz, making one of the few mistakes of his life.
"You think so--you want me to go?"
"Ach! you must not put it like that. How well you dance--colossal! But
it does not affect me--your going, frauelein."
"Since you will be there?"
"Does that make a difference, my dear young lady?"
"Of course it does."
"I wonder why."
"So do I," answered Maggie frankly. "I wonder why. I have been wondering
why, ever since Paul asked me. If you had not been going I should have
said 'No' at once."
Karl Steinmetz laughed quietly.
"What do I represent?" he asked.
"Safety," she replied at once.
She gave a queer little laugh and went on dancing.
"And Paul?" he said, after a little while.
"Strength," replied Maggie promptly.
He looked down at her--a momentary glance of wonder. He was like a
woman, inasmuch as he judged a person by a flicker of the eyelids--a
glance, a silence--in preference to judging by the spoken word.
"Then with us both to take care of you, may we hope that you will brave
the perils of Osterno? Ah--the music is stopping.
Pages:
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183