The Englishman watched Burger cross the room, and he had his hand on the handle of the door before his host sprang up with the air of a man who is making the best of that which cannot be helped.

“Hold on, old fellow,” said he; “I think you are behaving in a most ridiculous fashion; but still; if this is your condition, I suppose that I must submit to it.  I hate saying anything about a girl, but, as you say, it is all over Rome, and I don’t suppose I can tell you anything which you do not know already.  What was it you wanted to know?”

The German came back to the stove, and, laying down his basket, he sank into his chair once more.

“May I have another cigar?” said he.  “Thank you very much!  I never smoke when I work, but I enjoy a chat much more when I am under the influence of tobacco.  Now, as regards this young lady, with whom you had this little adventure.  What in the world has become of her?”

“She is at home with her own people.”

“Oh, really—­in England?”

“Yes.”

“What part of England—­London?”

“No, Twickenham.”

“You must excuse my curiosity, my dear Kennedy, and you must put it down to my ignorance of the world.  No doubt it is quite a simple thing to persuade a young lady to go off with you for three weeks or so, and then to hand her over to her own family at—­what did you call the place?”

“Twickenham.”

“Quite so—­at Twickenham.  But it is something so entirely outside my own experience that I cannot even imagine how you set about it.  For example, if you had loved this girl your love could hardly disappear in three weeks, so I presume that you could not have loved her at all.  But if you did not love her why should you make this great scandal which has damaged you and ruined her?”

Kennedy looked moodily into the red eye of the stove.

“That’s a logical way of looking at it, certainly,” said he.  “Love is a big word, and it represents a good many different shades of feeling.  I liked her, and—­well, you say you’ve seen her —­you know how charming she could look.  But still I am willing to admit, looking back, that I could never have really loved her.”

“Then, my dear Kennedy, why did you do it?”

“The adventure of the thing had a great deal to do with it.”

“What!  You are so fond of adventures!”

“Where would the variety of life be without them?  It was for an adventure that I first began to pay my attentions to her.  I’ve chased a good deal of game in my time, but there’s no chase like that of a pretty woman.  There was the piquant difficulty of it also, for, as she was the companion of Lady Emily Rood, it was almost impossible to see her alone.  On the top of all the other obstacles which attracted me, I learned from her own lips very early in the proceedings that she was engaged.”

“Mein Gott!  To whom?”