She looked at him blankly, a little incredulously.
"You have talked like this before, Henry," she said, "and it is all too absurd. You must tell me the truth now. You can have no business here. You are travelling for pleasure. You can surely leave a place or not at your own will?"
"It happens," he sighed, "that I cannot. Will you please be very kind, Violet, and not ask me too much about this? If there is anything else I can do," he went on, hesitatingly, "if you will give me a little more of your time, if you will wait with me for a few days longer—"
"Can't you understand," she interrupted impatiently, "that it is just this very moment, this instant, that I want to get away? Something has gone wrong. I want to leave Monte Carlo. I am not sure that I ever want to see it again. And I want you to take me.... Please!"
She held out her hands, swaying a little towards him. He gripped them in his. She yielded to their pressure until their lips almost met.
"You'll take me away this morning?" she whispered.
"I cannot do that," he replied, "but, Violet—"
She snatched herself away from him. An ungovernable fit of fury seemed to have seized her. She stood in the centre of the room and stamped her foot.
"You cannot!" she repeated. "And you will not give me a reason? Very well, I have done my best, I have made my appeal. I will stay in Monte Carlo, then. I will—"
There was a knock at the door.