"'Tis small chance," she answered, brushing her roses across red lips a-pout in thought. "'Tis why I choose a spot so remote and so late an hour."
"But alone—at midnight—with Dalroyd! By heaven, Betty, you run greater and more ugly risks than you know."
"I think not, Pan."
"But I tell you, and God forgive me if I misjudge the fellow—from what I know—from what I hear he's a very satyr—a——"
"Indeed I think he is!" she sighed. "So do I go prepared."
"How—how?" he demanded. "I say no maid should run such risk, willingly or no——"
"Pancras!" She turned and faced him suddenly. "You never doubt me—you?"
"Never Bet, never, I swear. But 'tis only that I've known you all your days and because I know you commit this folly and risk these dangers for Charles's sake. But Betty, in God's name what will the end be?"
"An end shall justify the means!"
"The means—the means! Aye, but there are some means so shameful that no end may ever justify—you never think to sacrifice yourself to——"