"Why not?" I asked. "He won't hurt me." Or at least he should not, if my sword could stop his.
"It is not that. It is—it is not that," she murmured, and flushed red.
"Well, then, I will seek him."
"No, no, no," cried Barbara in a passion that fear—surely it was that and nothing else—made imperious. I could not understand her, for I knew nothing of the confession which she had made, but would not for the world should reach my ears. Yet it was not very likely that Carford would tell me, unless his rage carried him away.
"You are not so kind as to shield me from Lord Carford's wrath?" I asked rather scornfully.
"No," she said, persistently refusing to meet my eyes.
"What is he doing here?" I asked.
"He desires to conduct me to my father."
"My God, you won't go with him?"
For the fraction of a moment her dark eyes met mine, then turned away in confusion.