“Do you understand?” said she, her cheek touching his as she made this last inquiry.
“Impossible—quite impossible,” he murmured.
“Nothing is impossible to those who have a will, who are earnest and firm of purpose. Nothing!”
He shook his head, but made no reply in words.
“Ah, sir,” she ejaculated in a persuasive tone. “Take pity on me, and you will be rewarded, be solaced when you reflect that you have been instrumental in rescuing a contrite woman from the dark abyss which lies before her. You, so good, so gentle, whom I love with all the ardour of an affectionate nature—you will aid me, I am sure you will.”
She took his hand within her own soft silky palm, and pressed it with every demonstration of affection.
He knew not what reply to make—his mind seemed to be in a perfect chaos—his temples throbbed, and he felt like one who is on the brink of a precipice.
She poured into his ear a plaintive and urgent appeal.
“My dear young creature, what can I do in this business?”
“Much,” said she. “Answer me one question.”