"Yes, I will," Cleo Ballard said.
Precisely at seven o'clock Takashima Orito presented himself at the hotel. He had told his father and Omi of his mission there; and the two old men were waiting in great trepidation for his return.
As he stood, calm but expectant, by the girl's side, waiting for her to speak first, she felt a sudden fear of him. She did not know what to say. She knew he was determined to have a direct answer now.
"I don't know what to say." She broke the strained silence desperately.
"I have only one answer to expect," he said, very gently. This answer silenced the girl. The Japanese came closer to her and looked full in her face.
"Will you marry with me, Miss Cleo?"
"I—I——" She shrank back, her face scared and averted.
"I cannot!" she said, scarcely above a whisper.
She did not look at him. She felt, rather than saw, that he had grown suddenly rigid and still. His voice did not falter, however.