"But you can obtain it," Escobar insisted. "He is a friend of yours. Exactly what he is doing—is it not so?"
So Martin's accusation was true. Joan nodded her head, and Escobar, with a smile of relief, took the gesture as a consent to his proposal.
"Good!" he said, rising from the couch. "Then all is forgiven! You will make some notes——"
"I will do nothing of the kind," said Joan quietly, but she was white to the edge of her lips, and she trembled from head to foot. But there was no room any more for fear in her. She was in a heat of anger which she had never known. "Oh, that you should dare!" and her words choked her.
Mario Escobar stared at her.
"With all my soul."
Escobar took a step towards her, but she did not move.
"You are alone with me, when you should be dancing at the ball. You made the appointment, chose the hour, the place ... even if you scream, there will be a scandal, a disgrace."
"I don't care."