"But you," he added at last, "you are perfect."
She had found a seat and he another. A fan which she held she unfurled and shut again with a sudden click. For a moment she toyed with a fold of her frock, but presently her hand fell to her side. He caught it up and kissed the finger-tips. At once she drew it from him.
"It is the climate that has affected you," she said, "not I."
"It is you," he muttered, "it is you."
"Even so, there let it rest."
"I cannot," he insisted; "I love you." As he spoke he started, startled at his own temerity. And as her eyelids drooped he tried to catch her hand again.
"Then, if you love me, say nothing." She had straightened herself and looked him now in the face. "If the general should even imagine—" A gesture completed the sentence.
Tancred nodded. He seemed confident and assured. Evidently the general had aroused no fear in him.
"It was in Mexico," she continued. "Liance was in the cradle. Her mother"—and Mrs. Lyeth turned her head and looked cautiously around—"her mother was younger than I am now. She was beautiful, I have understood; more so even than her daughter. The general suspected that she was flirting with the Austrian attaché. He had him out and shot him. His wife he drove to suicide. It is only recently I learned this. And yet it is not for that reason that I fear. I have no intention of flirting with you; you know that. It is because—because—"
"Don't hunt for a reason. I am willing to be shot."