She hesitated.
“No, I shall not write to you. I am not going to give you my address even; you must be patient for a little while.”
“You will not go away? You will not at least leave England without seeing me?”
“Not unless I am compelled,” she promised, “and then, if I go, I will come back again, or let you know where I am. You need not fear; I am not going to slip away and be lost! You shall see me again.”
Wolfenden was dissatisfied.
“I hate letting you go,” he said. “I hate all this mystery. When one comes to think of it, I do not even know your name! It is ridiculous! Why cannot I take you to London, and we can be married to-morrow. Then I should have the right to protect you against this blackguard.”
She laughed softly. Her lips were parted in dainty curves, and her eyes were lit with merriment.
“How delightful you are,” she exclaimed. “And to think that the women of my country call you Englishmen slow wooers!”
“Won’t you prove the contrary?” he begged.
She shook her head.