Marion put away her pistol soon, for the road was full of vehicles, and Beudant was no longer to be feared. The girl's face in the early morning light was pitifully lined and haggard. I watched her, but she kept her gaze set straight before, as though conscious of my stern regard. Every now and then too, she caught her breath, and shuddered as though she were remembering. Our silence lasted until we came to Notting Hill, when I became aware of a certain chilling curiosity concerning her. "Now that you have broken with your friends," I muttered suddenly, "what will you do?" She did not move, yet she answered at once in tones of deep humility. "Whatever you wish, monsieur!" "Whatever I wish," I sneered. "What has my wish to do with you?" She turned her head and looked into my eyes. "I have used you very ill, monsieur! I would make atonement, though, if you will let me!" "How?" "In any way you please." "Would you marry me, mademoiselle?" "Yes, monsieur." "You conceive then that you owe me extraordinary reparation?" "The greatest possible," she answered very softly. I knew then that I loved her still, in spite of better cause for hate than love; but so deep was my bitterness and sense of injury against her, that I felt perfectly incapable of magnanimity. "Your penitence is of sudden growth," I sneered. "It is none the less sincere, monsieur!" "And your humility?" "That too, monsieur." "I need a wife less than a servant who will nurse me!" I said coldly. "I will serve you, monsieur." I looked away and reflected deeply on her words. But though I tried, I could not understand her, and ignorance intensified distrust. Yet I foresaw that a period of sickness lay before me, and I could not believe that she had saved me to again betray me. Some one I must lean upon--it was imperative. She watched me in most evident anxiety, scarcely breathing the while. I turned at last, and said: "Have you money?" "None, monsieur." I felt my lip curl. It was, then, poverty which had inspired her abject self-surrender--and perhaps, too, fear. No doubt she relied upon my aid to escape Sir Charles Venner's vengeance. She read my thought, and murmured very low: "As God hears me, you are unjust, monsieur!" "We shall see!" I sneered. "Stop the phaeton!" We had come upon a cab-stand. Beudant transferred me into a fourwheeler, and Marion thereupon commanded him to return to Staines. When he had departed, I gave her my Bruton Street address, and thither, in perfect silence, we proceeded. My gaolers had disdained to rob me, but my pockets contained less than four pounds, and it was necessary to provide immediately against the illness I anticipated.