He started, and bending forward he possessed himself of both her hands—her hot trembling hands—and kissed them with a passionate tenderness.
"What help will you ask of me that I cannot give? That would be hard to bear!"
Still held by him, she answered his question by another:
"Give me your idea of what will happen. Tell me how you think it will end."
"I shall only distress you, dear," he said sadly.
"No; tell me. You think him guilty. You believe he will be convicted."
"Unless some wholly fresh evidence is forthcoming," he said reluctantly,
"I can see no other issue."
"Very well; then he will be sentenced to death. But, after sentence—I know—that man from Widrington, that solicitor told me—if—if strong influence is brought to bear—if anybody whose word counts—if Lord Maxwell and you, were to join the movement to save him—There is sure to be a movement—the Radicals will take it up. Will you do it—will you promise me now—for my sake?"
He was silent.
She looked at him, all her heart burning in her eyes, conscious of her woman's power too, and pressing it.