“I am no traitress!” she blazed at me; her eyes were magnificent.
“This is mere nonsense. You think that it will pay you better to serve Fu-Manchu than to remain true to your friends. Your ‘slavery’—for I take it you are posing as a slave again—is evidently not very harsh. You serve Fu-Manchu, lure men to their destruction, and in return he loads you with jewels, lavishes gifts—”
“Ah! so!”
She sprang forward, raising flaming eyes to mine; her lips were slightly parted. With that wild abandon which betrayed the desert blood in her veins, she wrenched open the neck of her bodice and slipped a soft shoulder free of the garment. She twisted around, so that the white skin was but inches removed from me.
“These are some of the gifts that he lavishes upon me!”
I clenched my teeth. Insane thoughts flooded my mind. For that creamy skin was red with the marks of the lash!
She turned, quickly rearranging her dress, and watching me the while. I could not trust myself to speak for a moment, then:
“If I am a stranger to you, as you claim, why do you give me your confidence?” I asked.
“I have known you long enough to trust you!” she said simply, and turned her head aside.
“Then why do you serve this inhuman monster?”