She responded immediately to the change in his manner, and smiled into his face.
"Well?"
"My only real problem," he went on earnestly, "is this. Dare I hold you to your word, Elizabeth? Dare I, for instance, say 'yes' to the wonderful suggestion of yours?—make you my wife and risk having people look at you in years to come, point at you with pity and say that you married a murderer who died a shameful death! Fancy how the tragedy of that would lie across your life—you who are so wonderful and so courted and so clever!"
"Isn't that my affair, Philip?" she asked calmly.
"No," he answered, "it's mine!"
She turned and laughed at him. For a moment she was her old self again.
"You refuse me?"
His eyes glowed.
"We'll wait," he said hoarsely, "till Dane comes back from England!"
The car had stopped outside the theatre. Hat in hand, and with his face wreathed in smiles, the commissionaire had thrown open the door. The people on the pavement were nudging one another—a famous woman was about to descend. She turned back to Philip.