“Madame La Masque,” said Norman, flushed sad haughty, “love is not a question of time.”
“Sir Norman Kingsley,” said the lady, somewhat sadly, “I am aware of that. Tell me what you wish to know, and if it be in my power, you shall know it.”
“A thousand thanks! Tell me, then, is she whom I seek living or dead?”
“She is alive.”
“She has the plague?” said Sir Norman.
“I know it.”
“Will she recover?”
“She will.”
“Where is she now?”
La Masque hesitated and seemed uncertain whether or not to reply, Sir Norman passionately broke in: