Strelsa stared at her without comprehension, then dropped her head back on the pillows.
"If you'll let me stay with you a little while longer—that is all I ask," she said almost drowsily.
Molly sprang up, came around and kissed her, lightly: "Of course. That was what I was going to ask of you."
Strelsa closed her eyes. "I'll stay," she murmured.
Molly laid her own cool face down beside Strelsa's hot cheek, kneeling beside the bed.
"Dear," she whispered, "let us wait and see what happens. There's just one thing that has distorted your view—a dreadful experience with one man—two years of hell's own horror with one of its wretched inhabitants. I don't believe the impression is going to last a lifetime. I don't believe it is indelible. I believe somehow, some time you will learn that a man's love does not mean horror and degradation; that it is no abuse of friendship which offers love also, to return it with friendship only.
"Sir Charles offers that; and you refuse because you do not love him and will not use his friendship to aid yourself to material comfort.
"And I suspect you have said the same thing to Rix. Have you?"
The girl lay silent, eyes closed.