"A devil incarnate," she repeated. "And the money----?" she asked suddenly.
"Here," he laughed. "Like a millstone around my neck."
"You have it still--here?"
"Well, rather. But I wish it were in Jericho."
"You are a man, mon Phili----"
She had thrown her sound arm impulsively over his, but at a sudden sharp memory she withdrew it and turned her head toward the wall. There was a moment of silence and then he heard her voice, hard, expressionless.
"I wanted to--to vote as you wished, but--but I betrayed you. His eyes were burning me, his words--scorching--my--my very soul." And then, almost in a whisper, "You heard what he said----"
"What does it matter now?" he asked softly.
"He scourged me," she whispered again, "stripped me bare for those animals to look at. If he had killed me--if this shot had been a few inches lower----"
"But it isn't," said Rowland cheerfully. "Buck up, Zoya. The worst is yet to come. I hoped the old pelican was dead, but we'll outwit him--some way."