Sabin shrugged his shoulders.
"Mr. Brott," he remarked, "a Cabinet Minister of marked Radical
proclivities, has lately been a frequent visitor at Dorset House,
which is the very home of the old aristocratic Toryism. Mr. Brott
was acquainted with Lucille many years ago--in Vienna. At that
time he was, I believe, deeply interested in her. I must confess
that Mr. Brott causes me some uneasiness."
"I think--that men always know," Helene said, "if they care to.
Was Lucille happy with you?"
"Absolutely. I am sure of it."
"Then your first assumption must be correct," she declared. "You
cannot explain things to me, so I cannot help you even with my
advice. I am sorry."
He turned his head towards her and regarded her critically, as
though making some test of her sincerity.
"Helene," he said gravely, "it is for your own sake that I do not
explain further, that I do not make things clearer to you. Only
I wanted you to understand why I once more set foot in Europe. I
wanted you to understand why I am here. It is to win back Lucille.
It is like that with me, Helene. I, who once schemed and plotted
for an empire, am once more a schemer and a worker, but for no
other purpose than to recover possession of the woman whom I love.
You do not recognise me, Helene. I do not recognise myself.
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