With some semblance of composure she took out a long travelling-cloak, and walked into the room in which he awaited her. With a start of surprise, she saw him standing by the open window.
"This way, mademoiselle," he said curtly; and she realised that he must have entered from the garden.
"One moment, monsieur," she returned, and quietly crossed the room to the door at the other end.
It was closed. It must have swung to behind her, for she did not remember closing it.
He made no attempt to stop her. He could not surely have guessed her intention, for he remained motionless by the window, watching her. Her heart was thumping as though it would choke her, but yet she controlled herself. He must not suspect till the door was open, till the passage was clear before her, and pursuit of no avail.
She reached out a quivering hand and grasped the ebony knob. Now—now for the last and greatest effort of her life! Sharply she turned the handle, pulled at it, wrenched it with frantic force, finally turned from it and confronted the man at the window with eyes that were hunted, desperate.
"Let me go!" she gasped hoarsely. "How dare you keep me here against my will?"
"I have no desire to keep you here, mademoiselle," he answered. "I am only waiting to take you away."
"I refuse to go with you!" she cried. "I would rather die a thousand times!"
His brows contracted into a single grim line. He left the window and came towards her.