There was something in his voice that roused the tigress in the woman.
"By the powers of hell," she turned on the man whose fatal guess had betrayed her secret, "if you but dare touch one hair of his head—"
Basil raised his hand disdainfully.
"Be calm, Lady Theodora! The Grand Chamberlain soils not his steel with such carrion," he said with a tone of contempt that struck home. "And now I will be plain with you, Lady Theodora. All things have their price. Will you grant to me what I most desire in return for that which is ever closest to your heart?"
Theodora gave a tantalizing shrug.
"Like the Fata Morgana of the desert, I am all things to all men," she said. "Remember, my lord, I must look for that which I desire wherever I may find it, since life and the future are uncertain."
There was a silence during which each seemed intent upon fathoming the secret thoughts of the other.
It was Basil who spoke.
"What of that other?"
Theodora had arisen.