The lawyer made no reply. Then, as if suddenly actuated by a determined resolution, he went up to the window overlooking the grounds and glanced out. Perhaps there might be a chance to get away. But when he noted the precipitous stone walls and the man on guard at the locked iron gates, he was convinced of the futility of any such attempt. It would only injure her cause. Shaking his head, he returned to where Paula stood.
"It isn't possible," he said, in an undertone. "That woman is behind the door. A man is over at the gate. No, that's not the way. If you go at all it must be through the front door, with head erect."
With a gesture of discouragement, Paula sank down on a chair.
"I can't stand it any longer," she cried, her face streaming with tears, "it's unbearable--simply unbearable! Did you ever try to count the time away? The first day I was here I determined not to think of my position. I counted the seconds. I counted one, two, three, four, five thousand--counted until I became exhausted. I thought I'd counted for hours, but I found that barely one little hour had passed--one little hour--and that the more I tried to forget my position the more intolerable it became."
Almost beside himself, not knowing what to suggest next, the lawyer strode nervously up and down the room. Each word she uttered was a stinging reproach and a knife thrust in his heart. Yet could he do more than he was doing? Stopping in front of her, he seized her burning hands and held them firmly in his own.
"Paula--Paula!" he cried appealingly, "for God's sake don't go on that way! I can't stand it. Try, try to bear up. The sun is shining somewhere behind these clouds--if we could only see it! This darkness will only last for a few days--a few hours--and then----"
"And then," she echoed with a hollow, mocking laugh. "Sometimes, when I think of the frightful ordeal I shall be compelled to go through to prove that I am entitled to my freedom, I--I feel unequal to the task-- I'm--I'm afraid--afraid----"
"You'll be all right--you'll come out triumphant!"
"How can I tell that I shall be able to convince these strangers? They don't know me as--as you do. Suppose I don't make a good impression. Suppose that the answers I make to their questions are not--not what they consider intelligent. Suppose I become confused and lose control of myself as I did before--what then?"