But now it is not like that. Even the other day, the last time I saw Sir George, there was something of this poison. It had been there so long, and though there were things that were driving it out, yet in the dark corners there was still some of that other darkness. It is very primitive, and we are not really civilised. If we are struck, we wish to strike back again. If we are injured, we do not care how much we hurt ourselves so long as we can hurt the one who has injured us.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘Not at all civilised, you see – and foolish with the folly that is poisoning the world.’ His voice changed to a homely confidential note. ‘Do you know that there, in Sir George’s office, I had an outburst like a savage, and I enjoyed it? But afterwards I was very much ashamed – because that sort of thing, it is like getting drunk, only of course much worse, so I did well to be ashamed. But now there is a change. I do not know whether it is because I was ashamed, or because since my work is done I cannot hide any longer in dark corners. I must have light to see what it is that I am doing – I do not know. I only know that I do not wish for vengeance any more. I wish only to set at liberty those who have been made slaves, and to do this the prison doors must be broken. That is why I give my harschite to the government. When the prisons are all broken and men can live again, I shall be glad to feel that I have helped. I do not think you can help when you are poisoned with hate.’

She said with a soft rush of words, ‘I’m so glad you told me. I think you’re wonderful. But – oh, Mr Harsch, you’re not going away!’

He looked startled. ‘Why did you think of that?’

‘I don’t know – it sounded – like saying goodbye.’

She was to remember that, and to wish that she had not said it.

‘Perhaps it was, my dear – good-bye to my work.’

‘But not to us – you wouldn’t be going away from here? I wouldn’t stay without you.’