pair of them sitting face to face in the attitude of intimacy. The
Prince, bearded and big, felt protective and paternal, for Truda,
muffled in her great cloak, looked very small and feminine just then.

His tone, so consoling and smooth, roused her; she sat up.

"Prince," she said, "you could stop it."

"The Judenhetze, you mean?" He made a gesture of resignation. "You
are wrong, dear lady. I can do nothing. It does not rest with me."

"You mean, there are higher powers who are responsible?" she
demanded.

"We will not talk politics," suggested the Prince. "But roughly that
is what I mean."

She scanned him seriously. "Yes," she said; "I thought that was so.
And you can do nothing? I see."

"But why," asked the Prince--"why let yourself be troubled, dear
lady? This is a pitiful business, no doubt; it has thrust itself on
you by an accident; you are moved and disturbed. But, after all, the
Jews are not our friends."

The courage to deal forthrightly was not lacking to her. As she sat
up again, the fur cloak slipped, and her bare shoulders gleamed above
it. Her face was grave with the gravity of a serious child.

"I am a Jewess," she said.