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Rh good care that his sentimentality didn't make him see her as a chocolate-box picture! You only had to look at her eyes!

"But, Gerrit," she said, nestling at his feet, "I never ran after you! I met you by accident, really by accident, I assure you. Don't you remember? Yes, once when I was driving: that was the first time; then near the Alexander Barracks . . ."

"But what were you doing near the barracks, damn it?"

She looked at him coaxingly, stroked him caressingly:

"Oh, well . . . I thought . . . !"

"There, you see! . . . You thought . . . !"

"Yes, you won't believe me. . . . Even towards the end . . . in Paris, Gerrit . . ."

"Well?"

"I used to think of you sometimes."

"Oh, rot, you're lying! . . . Do you think I believe you?"

"No, you don't believe me, but, Gerrit . . . I assure you . . . men are beasts . . . and you . . ."

"Oh, yes, you tell everybody that: do you imagine I don't see through it?"

Then she laughed merrily; and he laughed too.

"I'm laughing," she said, "because you're