"Are you glad to be free?"
MacLeod had a way of asking women persuasive questions. Though they were interrogative, they had the force of suggestion, of the clinching protest he might make in answer, when confession came. And they only noted, long after, that he never did answer. Electra did not know that form of communion, and it struck her as something holy. She looked him in the eyes, with a clear and beautiful gaze.
"Yes," she said, "I am very glad. Now I am free to devote myself to the most wonderful things, to worship them if I like."
There was passionate sincerity in her tone. It would have made a smaller thing of her vow if she could have said she was free to worship him.
"I am going to tell you something. You must not repeat it."
"I never will."
"I am going back to France."
"You have been summoned!"
He smiled at her and shook his head slightly, as if the manner of it were the only thing he could deny. She followed with another question, rather faintly, for his news left her shivering.
"To France, you said?"