their very recent meetings in Lucerne. Ruth could recollect no such occasion, but she feared to admit it lest she offend his vanity. And, indeed, now that he suggested that they had met before, his features became to her, not familiar, but it seemed that she had seen him before.
"Didn't I see you in Paris, Herr Baron?" she ventured boldly
"In Paris precisely," he confirmed, boastfully.
"I would have placed you, if I had thought about the possibility of your having been in Paris," Ruth explained.
"Ah! Why should I not have been there? A Norwegian gentleman, shipwrecked from a vessel torpedoed by the horrid Huns!" He laughed, self-flatteringly, and squeezed Ruth tighter. "A kiss, Liebchen! I swear, if you are a loyal girl, surely you'll say I deserve a kiss!"
He bent his head to take his reward; and Ruth, unable fully to oppose him, contented herself with turning her cheek, avoiding touch of his lips upon hers. It satisfied him, or he was in such excellent humor with himself that he let it content him for the moment.
The loathing which his embrace stirred within her and the helpless fury for repulse of him called clear images from Ruth's subconsciousness.
"About two weeks ago—" she began.
"A week ago Thursday, Liebchen."
"You brought a child for clothing to the relief rooms where I was working. I waited upon you."
"And following your excellent explanation of your wonderful work, Liebchen, I gave you—" He halted to permit her to recount his generosity.
"Two hundred francs, Herr Baron."
