e. Why didn't you tell me?"

She was silent, with her eyes still fixed upon Simon's and her grave
face animated by an expression of mingled defiance and fear. Suddenly
Simon seized her hand:

"But then . . . but then you knew the truth! Ever since this morning,
you have known that they went along the river-bank. . . . Look . . .
over there . . . you can see their tracks leading eastward. . . . And
you never told me! Worse than that. . . . Why, yes . . . it was you
who called my attention to the cable. . . . It was you who set me
going in a southerly direction . . . towards France. . . . And it is
through you that we have lost nearly a whole day!"

Standing close up to her, with his eyes plumbing hers, holding her
fingers in his, he resumed:

"Why did you do that? It was an unspeakable piece of treachery. . . .
Tell me, why? You know that I love Miss Bakefield, that she is in the
most terrible danger and that to her one day lost may mean dishonour
. . . and death. . . . Then why did you do it?"

He said no more. He felt that, in spite of her appearance, which was
impassive as usual, the girl was overcome with emotion and that he was
dominating her with all the power of his manhood. Dolores' knees were
giving way beneath her. There was nothing in her now but
submissiveness and gentleness; and, since, in their exceptional
position, no reserve could restrain her confession or check her
impulsiveness, she whispered:

"Forgive me. . . . I wasn't thinking . . . or rather I thought of no
one but you . . . you and myself. . . . Yes, from the first moment of
our meeting, the other day, I was swept off my feet by a feeling
stronger than anything in this world. . . . I don't know why. . . . It
was your way of doing things . . . your delicacy, when you threw your
coat over my shoulders. . . . I'm not used to being treated like that.
. . . You seemed to me different from the others. . . . That night,
at the Casino, your triumph intoxicated me. . . . And since then my
whole life has been centred on you. . . . I have never felt like this
before. . . . Men . . . men are brutal to me . . . violent . . .
terrible. . . . They run after me like brutes . . . I loathe them.
. . . You . . . you . . . you're different. . . . With you I feel a
slave. . . . I want to please you. . . . Your every movement delights
me. . . . With you I am happier than I've ever been in my life. . . ."

She stood drooping before him, with lowered head. Simon