“And you will allow that to stand in the way of your safety?”
“My safety!” she echoed. “I don’t understand.”
“Cannot you see that if you married Cyril Chetwode at once, La Gioia would be powerless?”
“Ah!” she exclaimed suddenly, impressed by the suggestion. “I had never thought of that?”
“Well,” he went on, “if you take my advice, you’ll lose no time in becoming Chetwode’s wife. Then you can defy your enemies, and snap your fingers at La Gioia.”
A deep silence fell. The woman who was my wife was reflecting.
“You say that by marriage I could defy my enemies; but that is incorrect. I could not cut myself free of all of them.”
“Why? Whom would you fear?”
“You yourself,” she answered bluntly.
“You have no confidence in me,” he protested with a dissatisfied air.