"Do?" said Hora. "If I had lived in the fifteenth century, I should have declared that you had been taking counsel with the devil."
"Perhaps I have," she replied, but the mockery was still in her voice.
"I believe you could bewitch even me, if you chose," he said as he looked again. "You would serve for a picture of temptation incarnate."
She laughed happily, and her eyes shone softly.
"It is for Guy," she answered, "all for Guy."
Lynton Hora recovered his wonted mood.
"Lucky young devil," he remarked cynically. His mood changed again. "Look here, Myra," he cried. "You and Guy must be married as soon as it can be managed. No, you need not interrupt me. You can keep him here until I return, and a special license can be obtained. When he leaves this flat it must be only with his bride. I will make all arrangements, and"—he paused before continuing,—"afterwards, you shall have your wish. Guy shall engage in no more dangerous enterprises. We will sign an armistice with the world."
Myra gave a cry of delight. She seized Hora's hand, pressing it between her own two palms. "You are too good to me, Commandatore," she said earnestly. "So good to me, and yet I fear. I—I don't want the license. I only want Guy to love me; if—if he doesn't——"
Tears stood in her eyes, and a sob choked her utterance.
"Guy cannot but love you," answered Hora, and he truly believed what he said. "No man in his senses could reject such devotion as yours, when once he is aware of its depths."