"Dark?"
"Either dark or dark chestnut."
"Grave."
"Grave, or at least, serious. Also brave, steady, loyal, and—"
"Just so. Do you know that you have described, word for word, my friend, Karl von Freyberg?"
Helen blushed crimson, and moved quickly, as if to leave the room, but Frederic, disregarding his wound, caught her hand and made her sit down again. The light from between the curtains irradiated her face like the sunlight falling on a flower. He looked at her intently.
"Well, yes," she said, "but no one knows but you."
"Not Karl himself?"
"He may have some idea."
"Well, little sister," said Frederic, "I see no great harm in all this. Come and kiss me, and we will talk again another time."