“What do you wish me to do?” she asked in a voice scarcely audible.
“It’s obvious. You must release me from my promise. I must be able to account for my night—prove my statement.”
“Forfeit my money!” she cried, terror raising her voice. “Do you know what that would mean, to me? This wealth that my father got together is flesh of my flesh and blood of my blood. I can’t give it up. It would kill me!”
“It would be your life for mine,” he said, ironically.
“You have sworn,” she said.
“If I had given my simple promise it would have been sufficient.”
“Are you going to keep it?”
He drew himself up. “We will not discuss that,” he said.
“Would they let you go if you told them?”
“Most probably.”