"You love her?" she persisted. His hands dropped to his side. "With all my soul," he said, "with all my soul!" He thought she would sink to the floor, but instead she caught fast hold of the table on which his money lay. She leaned on it heavily, refusing his aid. He took one of the girl's cold hands in his. "Listen, listen! Let me say a word. How do you think it makes a man feel to hear what you have told me to-night? to see you as you are, to grow to know you in such a short--in such a terrible way, and in a few hours to grow to know you so well, to find you dear, desirable, and then to leave you, as you tell me I must leave you. I can't do it; I have never been so miserable in my life, and if I find I am entirely helpless to serve you I can never get over the regret." Felicia Warren turned a little. "I have found you near disaster," Bulstrode urged, "I must and will see you to the shore. If you utterly refuse to let me take care of you as I can and will, will you then," he hesitated, then brought it out--"Will _you marry_ Prince Pollona?" She drew from him with a cry, and by what he said she seemed to have gained sudden strength. "My God!" she breathed, "You ask me _that_? Oh, it proves, it proves how less than nothing I am..." Bulstrode saw he could not, must not undeceive her. "If you wish me to do _that_," she cried. "Oh, how dreadfully, how cruelly, it breaks my dream!" Bulstrode said authoritatively, "Listen! listen for one moment." The eyes of the girl were dark with defiance; she brushed her hair off her brow with the back of her hand and stared straight before her. "--Otherwise," said Bulstrode, "I will remain here; I shall not leave these rooms till morning and you will then be forced to marry me, and since you think as you do, since I have told you my secret, ruin perhaps three lives." He had her at bay, and for a brief second, he thought she would accept his menace. But then in a sudden her anger vanished and her face softened. "You know," she said, "that, loving you as I do, whatever you tell me to do, I must. But let me go on with my career. Let me work, let me work, and be free!" He said decidedly, "No! You must be protected from yourself; you must have some one with you who will take care of you as I cannot do. You must do this for me. Is Pollona distasteful to you?" he pursued, "do you _hate_ him?" She made an indifferent shrug of her shoulders. Bulstrode was watching her face keenly, and after a second said, "No, you do not hate him. You sent for him to come to you here. He was the one to whom you turned, Felicia; turn to him now." As she wavered and hesitated, he insisted, coming close to her: "You have an ideal, you told me--well we can't get on without them. Your ideal has helped you, hasn't it? It seems pretty well to have stood by you. I have one too, you must understand that, and I ask you to help me to keep it secret now." "Why, what do you mean?" she questioned breathlessly.