"My brave girl," he said. "So you have not failed me."
Chapter XI
Elizabeth with a great effort wrenched her hands away from Paul's grasp, and fell against one of the marble-topped tables. Her face was white, her dull eyes looked up at him with a sort of terror.
"I—I have failed you," she said, speaking slowly and thickly, with parched lips. "I have come, but I—cannot stay. I was going when you came in."
"Elizabeth!" The look of exultant joy faded slowly and reluctantly from Paul's face. "Elizabeth, what do you mean? Why did you come if you don't mean to stay?"
"Because I—was crazy." She was trembling now, and she clung to the table for support; but still she was firm. "I—I didn't think what I did. Now I—I know. It would be wrong to marry like this—so secretly. I must go home. Let me pass." She spoke the last words quickly, imperiously, and made a motion as if to brush past him; but he stood motionless in the door and blocked her way.
He was very angry; she had never seen him so before. The emotion lent a curious brute strength to his fair, sensuous beauty. His face was as white as hers, his full red lips were set in a curve of unwonted determination.