She moved away. She did not glance towards Julien.
"I come," she announced.
Lady Anne had some letters in her hand, which she handed to Julien. He threw them hastily aside and drew her suddenly into his arms and into the shadow of the giant palm.
"Anne," he pleaded, "not because of your mother, not because you would make me a suitable wife, but because I love you, will you marry me?"
He felt her relax in his arms.
"Julien!" she murmured.
"I didn't finish the sentence," he went on,—"to-morrow at the
Embassy?"
"Absurd!"
"It's the only way," he insisted confidently. "We couldn't be married in London. All the tribe of Harbord would come and boo, and it would save no end of gossip and bother when we got back. Anne—I love you very much and I want you just as soon as I can get you!"
"Of course, if you put it like that," she said softly,—