“Well? And did you not risk your liberty for my sake?” she asked. “Did you not protect me from that blackguard who would have struck me because I refused to answer his questions?”
“Oh, that was nothing, Miss Gwen. I am thinking of you.”
“Can you—will you assist my father?” she urged. “For myself I care nothing. But for my father’s reputation—in order to enhance it, and also that through him Israel shall recover her sacred relics, I am ready to sacrifice anything. Disassociate yourself from these men, and assist us, Mr Mullet. Do.”
“That is, alas! impossible,” was his slow response. “It would mean my instant ruin. Would it not be better if I remained in the enemy’s camp? Reflect for a moment.”
“I wish you could meet my father,” she said.
“Well, if he’d really like to see me, perhaps I might call upon him.”
“He wants so much to know you. He was only saying so when we sat together last night after dinner.”
“But you know, Miss Gwen, I’m not the sort of man that he would care to associate with.”
“You have been my friend and protector, Mr Mullet, and surely that is sufficient I have always found you a gentleman—more so than many others who pose as honest men.”
“Well,” he said. “I don’t pose. I’ve told you the simple truth.”