Nick laughed aloud. "Only once?"
Her colour deepened. "You are positively ridiculous. Still, I wish it hadn't been Lady Bassett, Nick. I don't like to feel she hates you like that."
"It doesn't hurt me in the least," Nick declared. "Her poison-fang is extracted so far as I am concerned. She could only poison me through you. I always knew I had her to thank for what happened at Simla."
"Oh, but not her alone," Muriel said quickly. "You mustn't blame her only for that. I was prejudiced against you by—other things."
"I know all about it," said Nick. He was holding her hand in his, moving it hither and thither to catch the gleam of the rubies upon it. "You were a poor little scared rabbit fleeing from a hideous monster of destruction. You began to run that last night at Wara when I made you drink that filthy draught, and you have hardly stopped yet. I don't suppose it ever occurred to you that I would rather have died in torment than have done it." He broke into a sudden laugh. "But you needn't be afraid that I shall ever do it again. I can't do much to any one with only one arm, can I? You witnessed my futility last night. There's a grain of comfort in that, eh, darling?"
"Nick, don't, don't!" She turned to him impulsively and laid her cheek against his shoulder. "You—you don't know how you hurt me!"
"My dear girl, what's the matter?" said Nick. "I was only trying to draw your attention to my good points—such as they are."
"Don't!" she said again, in a choked voice. "It's more than I can bear. You would never have lost your arm but for me."
"Oh, rats!" said Nick, holding her closely. "Whoever told you that—"
"It was Dr. Jim."