She blushed and thrilled with pleasure to know that she still held this man's heart in the hollow of her hand—that he had dared all in the mad desire to once again see her face to face.
That was a keen satisfaction to one who loved with every fibre of her being.
Besides, there was a strong touch of the romantic in his strange appearance, that was not without its effect upon Georgia—native of Porto Rico, with some of Spain's most aristocratic blood in her veins, it was not at all singular that such a deed, savoring of the days of chivalry when Knights sought peril for the sake of Love, should appeal irresistibly to her heart.
She had cherished the memory of how he rushed into danger in Dublin, impelled by this same magical motive power, and the thought of his daring had been very sweet to her when seated alone upon the deck of the steamer watching the rolling billows, or resting in her bijou berth below.
No longer could she doubt the ardor of his love, when he showed such a willingness to risk life in order to prove it.
So Roderic related the little run of adventure that had befallen him since last they parted in the dark at the time he emerged from the cellar of the queer bungalow dwelling.
It was not much, but as she had experienced the same storm there was at least a bond of sympathy between them.
All the while she maintained a nervous watch in the direction of the steep stair leading up from the lower deck.
He knew why she exhibited this zeal, and felt flattered.
It puffs a man up to realize that he is an indispensable condition to one woman on earth—that she is deeply concerned about his well being; and when Roderic knew the peril hanging over him caused Georgia such constant uneasiness he gloried in the fact, simply because it spoke eloquently of her abiding affection.