It was of no use for her to hesitate. She could command Alexander and give him any answer she chose, but Paul's strong nature completely dominated her. She bent her head in assent, and the Yes she spoke was almost inaudible.
"And you ask time to choose between us?" asked Paul, icily. "Yes, I understand. You shall have the time,—as long as you please to remain in Constantinople. I am much obliged to you for being so frank. May I give you my arm to go into the next room?"
"How unkind you are!" said Hermione, making an effort to rise. But her strength failed her, and she fell back into her seat. "Excuse me," she faltered. "Please wait one moment,—I am not well."
Paul looked at her, and hesitated. But her weakness touched him, and he spoke more gently as he turned to her.
"May I get you a glass of water, or anything?"
"Thanks, nothing. It will be over in a moment,—only a little dizziness."
For a few seconds they remained seated in silence. Then Hermione turned her head, and looked at her cousin's white face. Her small gloved hand stole out from under her domino and rested on his arm. He took no notice of the action; he did not even look at her.
"Paul," she said, very gently, "you will thank me some day for having waited."
A contemptuous answer rose to his lips, but he was ashamed of it before it was spoken, and merely raised his eyebrows as he answered in perfectly monotonous tones:
"I believe you have done what you think best."