She gave him her hands. The look in her tired eyes went straight to his heart. Vos Engo drew back, his face set in a frown of displeasure.
"My brother?" she asked, without taking her gaze from his eyes.
"He is well. He will see you to-day."
"And you, Truxton?" was her next question, low and quavering.
"Unharmed and unchanged, Loraine," he said softly. "Tell me, did Vos Engo stand between you and the fire from the—"
"Yes, Truxton," she said, dropping her eyes as if in deep pain.
"And you have not—broken your promise to him?"
"No. Nor have I broken my promise to you."
"He is a brave man. I can't help saying it," said the American, deep lines suddenly appearing in his face. Swiftly he turned to Vos Engo, extending his hand. "My hand, sir, to a brave man!"
Vos Engo stared at him for a moment and then turned away, ignoring the friendly hand. A hot flush mounted to Loraine's brow.