And the man understood. His eyes looked straight into hers, blue and earnest, no longer careless.
"If I trust you," he said, "you must trust my honour. Please understand that I am a gentleman. We'll play our farce to stalls and the gallery, and when the curtain is down we'll treat each other with the most profound respect."
She tried to speak and could not. His voice softened.
"There's nothing else to be done," he said. "It won't be so hard on you;—you're an actress. And we'll find a way out, somehow. Perhaps, in a month or two, I can manage to have important business in America——"
She caught at that.
"And take me with you and drop me somewhere—?" she suggested.
"Take you with me and drop you somewhere?" he repeated. "Exactly. We must think it over."
"I could get killed in a railway accident—anything!" she said, in an eager, breathless voice.
"How accommodating!" said Barnaby. "There, that's settled. To my mother, and all outsiders, we'll be the most ordinary couple; but in private it shall be Sir and Madam. Shake hands on it, and promise me you'll play up."
He took her hands, the one with his ring on, the other bare. And Susan looked up at him, and was not afraid any more. She felt safe, and yet reckless;—almost as if she did not care at all how it ended, as if nothing were too dangerous, too adventurous for her to promise him.