She made a small but vehement gesture in his arms. "I hate India!" she said. "She dominates you like—like—"
"Like what?" he said.
She hid her face from him. "Like a horrible mistress," she whispered.
"Stella!" he said.
She throbbed in his hold. "I had to say it. Are you angry with me?"
"No," he said.
"But you don't like me for it all the same." Her voice came muffled from his shoulder. "You don't realize—very likely you never will—how near the truth it is."
He was silent, but in the silence his hold tightened upon her till it was almost a grip.
She turned her face up again at last. "I told you it was madness to marry me," she said tremulously. "I told you you would repent."
He looked at her with a strange smile. "And I told you it was—Kismet," he said. "You did it because it was written that you should. For better for worse—" his voice vibrated—"you and I are bound by the same Fate. It was inevitable, and there can be no repentance, just as there can be no turning back. But you needn't hate India on that account. I have told you that I will give her up for your sake, and that stands. But I will not give you up for India—or for any other power on earth. Now are you satisfied?"