‘Chance? Chance of what?’ she echoed in a little despairing murmur, ‘Where am I to go? Why should I struggle any more?’
‘Would you fall into Mouraki’s power?’ I asked from between set lips.
‘No; but I need not. I have my dagger.’
‘God forbid!’ I cried in sudden horror; and in spite of myself I felt my hand tighten and press her head among the coils of her hair. She also felt it; she raised herself on her elbow, turned to me, and sent a straining look into my eyes. What answer could I make to it? I averted my face; she dropped her head between her hands on the rocky floor.
‘We must go,’ said I again. ‘Can you walk, Phroso?’
I hardly noticed the name I called her, nor did she appear to mark it.
‘I can’t go,’ she moaned. ‘Let me stay here. I can get back to the house, perhaps.’
‘I won’t leave you here. I won’t leave you to Mouraki.’
‘It will not be to Mouraki, it will be to—’