eciate your
position in this wretched mess--and trying to find some excuse for it.
For you! And it's hard. Damned, brutally hard. Let's part! Let's
forget! Let's be just memories to each other--Romola!"

Her face, too, had lost its color, like life fading from a rose when
the stem is snapped. Her hand sought her throat and groped there, as
it always did in her moments of nervousness, and she drummed on the
cloth with a silver knife. She stared curiously at him, with the other
light dying hard.

"Then I can only hope--a slender hope--to bring you back to the favor I
asked you originally, and I place that before you now, my request for
that favor--my final hope. You cannot refuse that. You cannot! You
profess to be chivalrous. Now, let me--test you!"

CHAPTER XIV

"Romola, I said no to Nara long ago."

She threw up her head.

"A woman should need to be informed but once that her love is not
wanted. This is not what I meant."

"Ah! Another scheme! Your little brain is nothing short of an idea
machine. Remarkable! Go on."

"No," she said, rather sullenly, at this flow of bitterness, "a
variation of my plan. If you will not accompany me to Nara, then I
must go alone. I must have money. Do you understand? I am penniless.
The _King of Asia_ leaves for Japan to-morrow, at dawn. I will never
return to China. Will you--help me?"

"What do you mean by that? Will I break into the house and help you
rob?"

"There is no other way. The money is in a desk, locked. I am not
strong enough to break the lock. You can. Then, too, there are some
papers of mine----"

"Romola, will this give you the contentment you desire?" he said
sternly.

"I--I think so. I hope so."

"Then I will help you."

"Oh, Peter, how can I----"

He lifted his hand. "You see, my dear, you can't frighten me--easily.
You can't bribe me, Romola. But you can appeal to my weakness----"

"A woman in distress--your weakness!" But there was no mockery in
either her voice or her eyes. It was more like a whisper of regret.

"Romola, will you answer a question?"

"I'll try!"

"Why are beautiful women--girls--from all parts of the world stolen--to
work in that mine?"

Romola looked at him queerly. "I do not know, Peter."

They attacked the dinner, and by deft stages Peter led the conversation
to a lighter vein. It was nearly ten when they left, the dining-room
was all but deserted and they departed in high spir