The expression of her face had changed. A dark, fierce light seemed to illumine her features.
"We shall win yet! We are winning now, but the end will be swift!"
"The end of some people," thought John, "will be devilishly swift!" He was thinking of Manners, of Cherriton, and of the lady before him.
"What do you think will happen?" he inquired.
"They will come here, of course," she retorted, suddenly standing erect beside the divan and speaking with fiery and passionate intensity, "they will come here—my people!"
"Your people?" interjected John, quickly.
"My people," droned she, with a lift of her head. "You didn't know that before? But you are one of us, and I can trust you now."
"But everybody thinks you are an American," observed John, recalling what Dacent Smith had told him.
"Quite true—they do think that, and for convenience sake I am an American—a rich American who married"—she lifted a scornful lip and pointed towards the door—"who married the Ogre."
"Were you working for the—the cause when you married him?" inquired John.