"I am worried so dreadfully about John," she faltered.
"That isn't all," he declared. "There's something else. What promise did you make to Vos Engo last Saturday after—well, if you choose to recall it—after I brought you back to him—what did you promise him?"
"Don't be cruel, Truxton," she pleaded. "I cannot forget all you have done for me."
"You told Vos Engo to ride back and pick me up," he persisted. "He told me in so many words. Now, I want a plain answer, Loraine. Did you promise to reward him if he—well, if he saved me from the mob?"
She was breathlessly silent for a moment. "No," she said, in a low voice.
"What was it, then? I must know, Loraine." He was bending over her, imperiously.
"I am very—oh, so very unhappy, Truxton," she murmured. He was on the point of clasping her in his arms and kissing her. But he thought better of it.
"I came near spoiling everything just now," he whispered hoarsely.
"What?"
"I almost kissed you, Loraine,—I swear it was hard to keep from it. That would have spoiled everything."