She listened in dumb silence.
"Well, Bab?" he asked.
She still did not answer. She dared neither to speak nor to look at him. If she did she knew there would not be a soul in that ballroom who wouldn't guess what he was saying to her. He was pleading now, his voice urging her.
"Come with me, Bab! Marry me tonight! I want just you, don't you understand? I want you now!"
Tonight? Marry him like that? Run away with him? Varick could feel her tremble.
"It's not running away, Bab. Say yes, now! Say you'll marry me!" Even in her emotion, the distress that tore her now, Bab could not help but wonder at his haste, his persistency. "Don't be frightened, will you? Trust in me; I have everything ready, dear! And you won't have to go alone; I'll tell you something; it's all been fixed, Bab—I've brought Mr. Mapleson with me too."
"Mr. Mapy?" The name, the exclamation, burst from her, stifled, a startled cry. "You brought him?"
Again Varick's arm tightened itself about her, protecting, reassuring.
"Steady, dear!" he whispered. "They've begun to look at you."