It was the greatest effort she had ever made in her life. She wondered afterwards how she had ever brought herself to accomplish it. It was so hard--so hideously hard--to face him, this man who loved her so overwhelmingly, and tell him that he had failed to win her love in return. And at the eleventh hour--to treat him thus! If he had taken her by the throat and wrung her neck, she would have considered him justified and herself but righteously punished. But he did nothing of a violent nature. He only sat there looking at her, and though she could not bring herself to meet his look she knew that it held no anger. He did not speak, and she went on with a species of desperate pleading, because silence was so intolerable. "It wouldn't be right of me to--to marry you and not tell you, would it? It wouldn't be fair. It would be like marrying you under false pretences. I only wish--oh, I do wish--that I had known sooner, when you first asked me. I might have known. I ought to have known! But--but--somehow--" she began to falter badly and finally concluded in a piteous whisper--"I didn't." "How did you find out?" he said. His tone was still perfectly quiet; but he spoke judicially, as one who meant to have an answer. But Dinah had no answer for him. It was the very question to which there could be no reply. Her fingers interlaced and strained against each other. She stood mute. "I think you can tell me that," Eustace said. She made a small but vehement gesture of negation. "I can't!" she said. "It's--it's--private." "You mean you won't?" he questioned. She nodded silently, too distressed for speech. He got to his feet with finality. "That ends the case then," he said. "The appeal is dismissed. You can give me no adequate reason for releasing you. Therefore, I keep you to your engagement." Dinah uttered a gasp. She had not expected this. For the first time she met his look fully, met the blue, dominant eyes, the faint, supercilious smile. And dismay struck through and through her as she realized that he had made her captive again with scarcely a struggle. "Oh, but you can't--you can't!" she said. He raised his brows. "We shall see," he said. "Mean-time--" He paused, looking at her, and suddenly the old hot glitter flashed forth, dazzling her, hypnotizing her; he uttered a low laugh and took her in his arms. "Daphne, you will-o'-the-wisp, you witch, how dare you?" She made no outcry or resistance, realizing in a single stunning second the mastery that would not be denied; only ere his lips reached her, she sank down in his hold, hiding her face and praying him brokenly, imploringly, to let her go. "Oh, please--oh, please--if you love me--do be kind--do be generous! I can't go on--indeed--indeed! Oh, Eustace,--Eustace--do forgive me--and let me go!" "I will not!" he said. "I will not!"