"Did you pray for me?" he asked softly.
"Yes—"
"I ought to be satisfied with that, but I'm not—I want you! Won't you be mine?"
She smiled into his eager face in a gentle, whimsical way. A half promise to him was just trembling on her lips when Socola's slender, erect figure suddenly crossed the street. He lifted his hat with a genial bow.
Dick ground his teeth in a smothered oath, and Jennie spoke abruptly:
"Come—it's late—we must go in."
Through the long night the girl lay awake with the calm, persistent, smiling face of the foreigner looking into the depths of her brown eyes.