She sat by his side, her arm touching his sleeve, her weight thrown against him at such times as the sleigh bumped over a fallen tree or some inequality of the ground.
He could not help wondering what thoughts there were behind her silence.
Steinmetz's good-natured banter had come back to his memory, during the last few days, in a new light.
"Paul," said the woman at his side quite suddenly, breaking the silence of the great forest where they had grown to life and sorrow almost side by side.
"Yes." "I want to know how this all came about.

It is not my father's doing.
There is something quick, and practical, and wise which suggests you and Herr Steinmetz.

I suspect that you have done this--you and he--for our happiness." "No," answered Paul; "it was mere accident.

Your father heard of our trouble in Kiew.

You know him--always impulsive and reckless.