“Why should you ever leave here, Margaret?” persisted the man. “Why should you ever leave the one — who loves you?”
The girl’s eyes opened wide.
“Yes, Margaret, I love you,” came Zayata’s voice. “I want you to remain here always here with me—”
The girl’s lips tightened. Despite the alluring sound of Henri Zayata’s voice, the man’s words worried her. The recollection of Robert Buchanan seemed to govern her.
“Do you love me, Margaret?” was Zayata’s question.
“I cannot tell,” gasped the girl. “Please, Henri — please let me consider. I shall stay here — for a little while — but then—”
“Then you will answer me?”
“Yes.”
“How soon?” Zayata insisted.
The girl pondered. She had detected an eagerness in the man’s voice, and it made her feel a sudden lack of security.