Her face had flushed, but as the color ebbed she looked almost waxen. "I relied on Din——"
"Well, I guessed it and he admitted the fact. And if he hadn't I'd have come after you, anyhow. Your note was enough to tell any man something was wrongs. I shall not be put off and I will have an answer to my questions. Do you love me no longer?"
"Oh, yes," she said softly. "I love you." But when he tried to take her hand she drew it away.
"Do you still intend to marry me?"
"Won't you give me a few days more to think it over?"
"No, I will not. And—do you need them? Haven't you already made up your mind?"
She sighed and looked out of the window. They were driving up Fifth Avenue and the bright street was full of color and life. The busses and motors were filled with women on their way to the shops, whose gay windows were the most enticing in the world. New York, in this, her River of Delight, looked as if she had not a care in the world.
Madame Zattiany did not speak again until they were in the Park.
"I have promised to marry you, remember; and I do not lightly go back on my word.… But … I had intended to ask if you would be willing to let me go alone to Vienna for six months—and then join me——"
"After I had lost you completely! I shall marry you here, today, or not at all. I love you but I'll not let you play with me. I'll go to Austria with you, and you may do as you choose when you get there. You'll belong to me and I'll make the best of it."