ing. It stirred her to
an impulse more headlong than at the moment she realized.

"I will come with you," she said.

"Good!" said Monck simply, and stood back for her to pass.

She went by him without a glance. She felt as if the wild throbbing of
her heart would choke her. He had spoken in such a fashion as she had
dreamed that he could ever speak. He had spoken and she had not sent him
away. That was the thought that most disturbed her. Till that moment it
had seemed a comparatively easy thing to do. Her course had been clear.
But he had appealed to that within her which could not be ignored. He
had appealed to the inner truth of her nature, and she could not close
her ears to that. He asked her only to be true to herself. He had taken
his stand on higher ground than that on which she stood. He had not
urged any plea on his own behalf. He had only urged her to be honest.
And in so doing he had laid bare that ancient mistake of hers that had
devastated her life. He did not desire her upon the same terms as those
upon which she had bestowed herself upon Ralph Dacre. He made that
abundantly clear. He did not ask her to subordinate her happiness to
his. He only asked for straight dealing from her, and she knew that he
asked it as much for her sake as for his own. He would not seek to hold
her if she did not love him. That was the great touchstone to which he
had brought her, and she knew that she must face the test. The mastery
of his love compelled her. As he had freely asserted, he had the
right--just because he was an honourable man and he loved her
honourably.

But how far would that love of his carry him? She longed to know. It was
not the growth of a brief hour's passion. That at least she knew. It
would not burn and go out. It would endure; somehow she realized that
now past disputing. But was it first and greatest with him? Were his
cherished career, his ambition, of small account beside it? Was he
willing to do sacrifice to it? And if so, how great a sacrifice was he
prepared to offer?

She yearned to ask him as he sped her in silence through the chequered
moonlight of the Khanmulla jungle. But some inner force restrained her.
She feared to break the spell.

The road was deserted, just as it had been on that dripping night when
she had answered his summons to Tommy's sick bed. She recalled that wild
rush through the darkness, his grim strength, his determination. The
iron of his will had seemed to compass