"I will do it," she said, every word falling like ice from her white lips.
A crimson flush stained his face.
"Stella! My Stella!" he cried.
She put up her hand; she did not shrink back, but simply put up her hand, and it was he who shrank.
"Do not touch me," she said, calmly, "or—or I will not answer for myself."
He wiped the cold beads from his brow.
"I—I am content!" he said. "I have your promise. I know you too well to dream that you would break it. I am content. In time—well, I will say no more."
Then he went to the table and pressed the bell.
She looked up at him with a dull, numbed expression of inquiry which he understood and answered.
"You will see. I have thought of everything. I foresaw that you would yield and have planned everything."