They read in one another’s faces a different meaning from the empty words of excuse and welcome.  Dacier’s expressed the buckling of a strong set purpose; but, grieved by the look of her eyes, he wasted a moment to say:  ‘You have not slept.  You have heard . . . ?’

‘What?’ said she, trying to speculate; and that was a sufficient answer.

’I hadn’t the courage to call last night; I passed the windows.  Give me your hand, I beg.’

She gave her hand in wonderment, and more wonderingly felt it squeezed.  Her heart began the hammerthump.  She spoke an unintelligible something; saw herself melting away to utter weakness-pride, reserve, simple prudence, all going; crumbled ruins where had stood a fortress imposing to men.  Was it love?  Her heart thumped shiveringly.

He kept her hand, indifferent to the gentle tension.

’This is the point:  I cannot live without you:  I have gone on . . .  Who was here last night?  Forgive me.’

‘You know Arthur Rhodes.’

’I saw him leave the door at eleven.  Why do you torture me?  There’s no time to lose now.  You will be claimed.  Come, and let us two cut the knot.  It is the best thing in the world for me—­the only thing.  Be brave!  I have your hand.  Give it for good, and for heaven’s sake don’t play the sex.  Be yourself.  Dear soul of a woman!  I never saw the soul in one but in you.  I have waited:  nothing but the dread of losing you sets me speaking now.  And for you to be sacrificed a second time to that—!  Oh, no!  You know you can trust me.  On my honour, I take breath from you.  You are my better in everything—­guide, goddess, dearest heart!  Trust me; make me master of your fate.’

‘But my friend!’ the murmur hung in her throat.  He was marvellously transformed; he allowed no space for the arts of defence and evasion.

’I wish I had the trick of courting.  There’s not time; and I ’m a simpleton at the game.  We can start this evening.  Once away, we leave it to them to settle the matter, and then you are free, and mine to the death.’

‘But speak, speak!  What is it?’ Diana said.

’That if we delay, I ‘m in danger of losing you altogether.’

Her eyes lightened:  ‘You mean that you have heard he has determined—?’

’There’s a process of the law.  But stop it.  Just this one step, and it ends.  Whether intended or not, it hangs over you, and you will be perpetually tormented.  Why waste your whole youth?—­and mine as well!  For I am bound to you as much as if we had stood at the altar—­where we will stand together the instant you are free.’

’But where have you heard . . .?

’From an intimate friend.  I will tell you—­sufficiently intimate—­from Lady Wathin.  Nothing of a friend, but I see this woman at times.  She chose to speak of it to me it doesn’t matter why.  She is in his confidence, and pitched me a whimpering tale.  Let those people chatter.  But it ’s exactly for those people that you are hanging in chains, all your youth shrivelling.  Let them shout their worst!  It’s the bark of a day; and you won’t hear it; half a year, and it will be over, and I shall bring you back—­the husband of the noblest bride in Christendom!  You don’t mistrust me?’