"Will you do what I ask you?" she said suddenly, facing him directly. "Will you, Big Bear?"
Merefleet did not answer her.
She went on quickly.
"My dear, it's hard for me, too, though I'm bad and I deserve to suffer."
Her voice broke and Merefleet made a convulsive movement towards her. But he checked himself. And Mab ended in a choked whisper with an appealing hand against his breast.
"Just go right away!" she said. "Take up your life where it was before you met me! Will you, dear? It—will make it easier for me if you will."
A dead silence followed the low words. Then, moved by a marvellous influence which worked upon him irresistibly, Merefleet stooped and put the slight hand to his lips. He did not understand. He was as far from reading the riddle as he had been when he entered. But his love for this woman conquered his desire. He had thought to win an empire. He left the room a beaten slave.
CHAPTER XV
Men said that Bernard Merefleet, the gold-king, was curiously changed when once more he went among them. Something of the old grimness which had earned for him his sobriquet yet clung to his manner. But he was undeniably softer than of yore. There was an odd gentleness about him. Women said that he was marvellously improved. Among such as had known him in New York he became a favourite, little as he attempted to court favour.