He closed the door behind him, but he did not advance into the room.
“At your pleasure, Mademoiselle?” he said simply. “You sent for me, I think.”
She was on her feet, standing before him with something of the submissiveness of Roxana before her conqueror.
“I did,” she said; and stopped at that, her hand to her side as if she could not continue. But presently in a low voice, “I have heard,” she went on, “what you said, Monsieur, after I lost consciousness.”
“Yes?” he said; and was silent. Nor did he lose his watchful look.
“I am obliged to you for your thought of me,” she continued in a faint voice, “and I shall be still further obliged—I speak to you thus quickly and thus early—if you will grant me a somewhat longer time.”
“Do you mean—if I will postpone our marriage?”
“Yes, Monsieur.”
“It is impossible!”
“Do not say that,” she cried, raising her voice impulsively. “I appeal to your generosity. And for a short, a very short, time only.”