He slightly trembled, and looked into her eyes.
"Yes," he answered, in the same low, unsteady tone.
Then she pressed his hand, which she had retained, in a tighter clasp. But she did not continue speaking at once. She felt their feverish warmth mingling in one.
"You are mistaken," she resumed; "I am not guilty."
She did not say this to convince him, but simply to warn him that she must be innocent in the eyes of others. It was the avowal of the woman who says no, desiring it to be no, in spite of all, and always.
"I am not guilty," she added. "You will not continue to pain me by believing I am guilty?"
And she was very happy to see his eyes gazing deeply into her own. Without doubt what she had just said, was equivalent to selling herself to him, for she gave herself away, and later on, if he claimed her, she could not refuse. But the bond was tied between them, and could not be severed. She absolutely defied him to speak now. He belonged to her, as she belonged to him. The avowal had united them.
"You will not cause me any more pain?" she asked. "You believe me?"
"Yes, I believe you," he replied, smiling.