The room was very dim, the electric light being only slightly raised, but he could see her half-closed eyes and trembling lips, as she bent over towards him now till her brow rested upon his shoulder.
“This is not death, but life,” he whispered passionately. “Tell me, you were going to escape from me?”
“Yes.”
“Where were you going?”
“Abroad—Switzerland.”
“When?”
“To-night.”
“Yes, to-night,” he said softly, “and I with you, dearest. Your slave—yourself—one with you always. Marion, we must never part again.”
“Never part again,” she whispered back, as his lips sought hers. “You have mastered. I can resist no more; take me, dearest—I am yours. But we must go at once. At any moment they may return.”
“Who may? Your brother and James Clareborough?”