“Nothing, monsieur.”

“But for you to submit—­like this—­”

“It is not to be helped.”

“But it is to be helped—­if you really dislike it,” he added jealously.

“I cannot help it, because—­because my father—­” She hesitated.  The honor of her father and her family pride and affection were all involved, yet suddenly the sacrifice of these became more tolerable than to consent to that image of herself which she saw swiftly defining itself in his mind, that slight, weak creature, whose acquiescent passivity submitted to this marriage.

The thought was unbearable.  She was burning beneath her veil.  She would tell him....  And perhaps she was not averse, in her childish pride, to the pitiful glory of having him see her in the beauty of her filial sacrifice.

“My father has—­has done something against the English laws,” she faltered, “and Hamdi Bey, this general, knows of it, and will inform unless—­unless my father makes this marriage.  A cousin of his has seen me,” she added, her young vanity forlornly rearing its head, “and told Hamdi that I am not—­not too ill-looking a girl—­”

Her essay of a laugh died.

Ryder’s look deepened its sharp, defensive concentration.

“This is true—­I mean your father is not just putting something over—­telling you to get your consent?”

Her thoughts flew back to her father’s haggard face.  “Oh, it is true!  I know.”

“And he’s going to hand you over—­What sort is this Hamdi?”

“A general.  Old.  Evil enough to lay traps to obtain me.”

“It’s abomination.”  The anger in the young man surged beyond his control.  “You must not do it....  If your father is clever enough to break a law let him be clever enough to mend it—­by himself.  Such a sacrifice is not required....  You must realize what this means to you.  You must realize—­Look here, I’ll help you.  I’ll plan some escape.  There must be ways.  I have friends—­”

She stifled the leap of her heart.  She held her head high and made what she thought was a very noble little speech.  “It is for my father, monsieur.  You do not understand.  It is to save my father.”

He looked at her in silence.  He was afraid to answer for a moment; he could feel the unruly blood beating even in the lips he pressed together.

“But don’t you understand—­” he blurted at last and broke off.

After all, he did not know this girl.  If he swayed her judgment now, and dragged her away, what life, what compensation could he offer her?  How did he know that she would not regret it?  Would she be happier in a world unknown?....

She had been brought up to this sort of thing.  It was bred in her....  Marriage was her inevitable game.  This very charm she exercised, this subtle, haunting invasion of his senses, what was that but another proof of the harem existence where all influences were forced to serve the ends of sex ...