no spirit of play in those eyes watching me.

"Apparently I possess no real choice," I answered, at last. "Either way
I am a prisoner."

She smiled, evidently relieved at my tone.

"Yes--but have you no preference as to captors?"

"Put thus, hesitation ends; I accept the terms of parole."

"You mean it?"

"Yes."

She extended her hand across the table, and I as instantly grasped it,
both almost unconscious of the actions.

"I ought to thank you," I began, but she broke in as quickly:

"No; please don't. I know I am not doing what I should. It is all so
strange that I am actually dazed; I have lost all understanding of
myself. It is painful enough to realize that I yield to these impulses,
without being constantly reminded that I fail in duty. I do not want
your gratitude."

She had withdrawn her hand, and was upon her feet. I thought her whole
form was trembling, her lips seeking to frame words.

"I certainly had no intention of hurting you."