"Oh, in many ways! You agitate me beyond bearing. If Sir Francis——"
"Well?" he laughed into her trembling sentences. "Are you afraid of Sir Francis?"
She gave him a bewildered piteous look.
"Afraid! Yes, I am afraid of them all. What do you want to say to me? Ah, there is nothing to be said!"
"Everything, I think," he answered. "Give me a chance to speak."
The dim confusing and shifting light of moon and lamp, falling brokenly through the stirring branches, only half revealed to her his face, turned towards her, pale between the pomaded curls.
"I cannot hear you, my lord."
He caught her little wrist lightly.
"You are not going to betroth yourself to Sir Francis?"
"I have assured you of that," she panted. "This is cruelty, my lord. Ah, release my hand!"