am human,' he answered grimly, but he did not move to follow her.

'By whatever you hold sacred, let me go!' She was wrenching at the
lock in despair with both hands, but sideways, while she kept her eyes
on his.

'I hold you sacred--nothing else.'

'Sacred!' Her anger began to outbrave her terror now. 'Sacred, and you
have trapped me by a vile trick!'

'Yes,' he answered, 'I admit that.'

He had not moved again and there was a window near her. She sprang to
it and thrust the curtains aside, hoping to open the frame before he
could stop her. But though she moved the fastenings easily, she could
do no more, with all her strength, and Giovanni still stood
motionless, watching her.

'You cannot open that window,' he said quietly. 'If you scream, no one
will hear you. Do you think I would have brought you to a place where
you could get help merely by crying out for it? The risk was too
great. I have made sure of being alone with you as long as I choose.'

The nun drew herself up against the red curtains.

'I did not know that you were a coward,' she said.

'I am what you have made me, brave, cowardly, desperate--anything you
choose to call it! But such as I am, you must hear me to the end this
time, for you have no choice.'

Sister Giovanna understood that there was no escape and she stood
quite still; but he saw that her lips moved a little.

'God is not here,' he said, in a hard voice, for he knew that she was
praying.

'God is here,' she answered, crossing her hands on her breast.

He came a step nearer and leaned on the back of a chair; he was
evidently controlling himself, for his movements were studiedly
deliberate, though his voice was beginning to shake ominously.

'If God is with you, Angela, then He shall hear that I love you and
that you are mine, not His! He shall listen while I tell you that I
will not give you up to be murdered by priests for His glory! Do what
He will, He shall not have you. I defy Him!'

The nun shrank against the curtain, not from the man, but at the
words.

'At least, do not blaspheme!'

'I must, if it is blasphemy to love you.'

'Yours is not love. Would to heaven it were, as I thought it was to-day.
Love is gentle, generous, tender----'

'Then be all three to me; for you love me, in spite of everything!'

'You have taught me to forget that I ever did,' she answered.

'Learn to remember that you did, to realise that you do, and forget
only that I have used a tri