He looked her straight between the eyes and whispered huskily:
"I've been in hell, little one."
Rosemary tried to smile: "But why, my dear? We can't expect to be always, always together, every day for the rest of our natural lives."
"I don't know what you expect from life, little one, but I do know that if you send me away from you again, I should not come out of that hell again alive."
"But I did not send you away, Jasper," she argued, a little impatient with him because of his wild talk. "Your going to Bucharest was entirely your own idea."
"And I have lamentably failed," he muttered with a shrug.
She gave a little gasp that sounded like a sob.
"There was nothing to be done?" she asked.
"Nothing."
"The King?"