"The Prophet holds private Audience only in the morning," he replied, in an even voice.
Enid flushed.
"I know that. But there are exceptions to the rule—"
The Arch-Mystic shook his head.
"The Prophet holds private Audience only in the morning."
"But the Prophet is generous. Five minutes alone with him will satisfy me—three minutes—two minutes—" Her tone quickened as her anxiety increased.
Still Norov's blue eyes met hers unswervingly.
"The Prophet holds private Audience only in the morning."
At the second repetition her apprehension rose to fear; and in her alarmed trepidation she conceived a new idea. With a rapid searching glance her eyes travelled over the Arch-Mystic's powerful figure, while she mentally measured his physical strength with that of the Prophet. Her survey was short and comprehensive; and her decision came with equal speed. With a subtle change of manner and voice she made a fresh appeal. Turning to him with a gesture of deference, she spoke again in a soft and conciliatory voice.
"Of course, you are right in what you say," she murmured. "But I am going to make an appeal. If I may not see the Prophet in private Audience, then let me see him in your presence! I have only a dozen words to say; and, if necessary, I will say them in your presence. You can see it is urgent, when I am willing to humiliate myself. It is only for her Soul that a woman will conquer her pride. You won't deny peace to my Soul?" Her voice dropped, her whole expression pleaded.