“You are,”—pursued David, “—or think you are—unable to move hand or foot for five years. Meanwhile you are waiting, waiting for a summons which may never come. Barbara, is there anyone you know who would be likely to—who might wish to help you, and who has taken this singular way to do it?”
She flashed a look of startled inquiry at him.
“The idea of the auction was your own—though how you came by it, I can’t understand—and it succeeded perfectly, as far as the price paid in money was concerned; but you’re likely to pay it out in something more valuable than money. You’ve grown thin and pale, Barbara; you’re being worn out with this infernal suspense. Now, I think it’s time we tracked your purchaser to earth; or else—look at me, Barbara! Why not marry me, and defy the fellow, whoever he is?”
“It wouldn’t be honorable,” she objected. “I’ve accepted the money.”
“But if we paid it back?” he urged.
“How can I pay it back, if—I don’t know who it is?”
David tipped his chair against the house with an impatient thud.
“See here,” he said strongly, “I’m going to find out who the person is, either with or without your permission. You’d like to know, I suppose?”
She hesitated, evading his eyes.
“I think I’d rather wait,” she said reluctantly. “Besides, you couldn’t find out.”