That's the very point I'm making--that you can't travel now
in comfort. I'm simply trying to spare you future contretemps, Miss
Falconer; such as I had on the _Re d'Italia_, you may recall."
She leaned impulsively across the table.
"Oh, Mr. Bayne, I knew it! You are angry about that wretched extra, and
you have a right to be. Of course you thought it cowardly of me--yes,
and ungrateful--to stand there without a word and let those officers
question you. Mr. Bayne, if the worst had come to the worst, I should
have spoken, I should, indeed; but I had to wait. I had to give myself
every chance. It meant so much, so much! You had nothing to hide
from them. You were certain to win through. And then, you seemed so
undisturbed, so unruffled, so able to take care of yourself; I knew you
were not afraid. It was different with me. If they began to suspect, if
they learned who I was, I could never have entered France. This route
through Italy was my one hope! I am so sorry. But still--"
Hitherto she had been appealing; but now she defied frankly. That tint
of hers, like nothing but a wild rose, drove away her pallor; her gray
eyes flamed.
Pages:
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112