"That's a promise," she said. "I won't let you break it. But you won't want to break it. I'll love you so much—enough to make up for everything. Enough to keep you from remembering those lights over there."
"They're nothing to me," he assured her. "I don't believe I'll ever want to see them again. There are other places where I can do better than at Monte Carlo. Baccarat's a safer game than roulette or trente et quarante, I begin to think, and I could adapt the system——"
"Never mind the system now! You'll have to go back to Monte to-morrow to get your eighty pounds, and a cheque cashed for Mary Grant—a big one, I hope. Then you can redeem some of our things. One trunk for each of us will be enough, for I want to go a long way off and travel quickly."
"Where do you want to go?" Dauntrey asked, indulgently, in a dreaming voice, as if her love and the force of her fierce vitality were hypnotizing him. He spoke as if he were so near happiness again that he would gladly go anywhere, to find it once more with Eve.
"I haven't made up my mind about that yet."
"Oh, I thought you had! You always make up your mind so quickly when you want anything."
"I've been putting my mind to what we must do first, before we go away. There is a thing to do; and it will have to be done soon, or it will be too late."
Her tone was suddenly sharp as a knife rubbed against steel.
"What thing?" her husband asked, startled out of his dream.
Instantly she softened again and clung to him and round him more closely than before. "Darling," she said, "you've just told me that you'd do anything for my sake."