She watched him intently, her lips trembling and her eyes wells of sorrow into which he could not gaze unmoved.
"If I tell you—will you let me go?"
"I shall make no promises, for I can believe nothing that you may tell me. You gained my confidence by a lie—and now, by another lie, you seem to think that you can induce me to overlook a deliberate attempt at burglary—common burglary." He clenched his hands. "Heavens! I could never have believed it of you!"
She flinched as though from a blow and regarded him pitifully as he stood, head averted.
"Oh, please listen to me," she whispered. "At first I tell you a lie, yes."
"And now?"
"Now—I tell you the truth."
"That you are a petty thief?"
"Ah! you are cruel—you have no pity! You judge me as you judge—one of your Englishwomen. Perhaps I cannot help what I do. In the East a woman is a chattel and has no will of her own."
"A chattel!" cried Stuart scornfully. "Your resemblance to the 'chattels' of the East is a remote one. There is Eastern blood in your veins, no doubt, but you are educated, you are a linguist, you know the world. Right and wrong are recognizable to the lowest savage."