to be otiose."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you may set your mind at rest. I am not going to back out of my
promise."

Zuleika flushed. "You are cruel. I would give the world and all not to
have written you that hateful letter. Forget it, forget it, for pity's
sake!"

The Duke looked searchingly at her. "You mean that you now wish to
release me from my promise?"

"Release you? As if you were ever bound! Don't torture me!"

He wondered what deep game she was playing. Very real, though, her
anguish seemed; and, if real it was, then--he stared, he gasped--there
could be but one explanation. He put it to her. "You love me?"

"With all my soul."

His heart leapt. If she spoke truth, then indeed vengeance was his! But
"What proof have I?" he asked her.

"Proof? Have men absolutely NO intuition? If you need proof, produce it.
Where are my ear-rings?"

"Your ear-rings? Why?"

Impatiently she pointed to two white pearls that fastened the front
of her blouse. "These are your studs. It was from them I had the great
first hint this morning."

"Black and pink, were they not, when you took them?"

"Of course. And then I forgot that I had them. When I undressed, they
must have rolled on to the carpet. Melisande found them this morning
when she was making the room ready for me to dress. That was just after
she came back from bringing you my first letter. I was bewildered. I
doubted. Might not the pearls have gone back to their natural state
simply through being yours no more? That is why I wrote again to you, my
own darling--a frantic little questioning letter. When I heard how you
had torn it up, I knew, I knew that the pearls had not mocked me. I
telescoped my toilet and came rushing round to you. How many hours have
I been waiting for you?"

The Duke had drawn her ear-rings from his waistcoat pocket, and was
contemplating them in the palm of his hand. Blanched, both of them, yes.
He laid them on the table. "Take them," he said.

"No," she shuddered. "I could never forget that once they were both
black." She flung them into the fender. "Oh John," she cried, turning to
him and falling again to her knees, "I do so want to forget what I have
been. I want to atone. You think you can drive me out of your life. You
cannot, darling--since you won't kill me. Always I shall follow you on
my knees, thus."

He looked down at her over his folded arms,

"I am not going to back out of my promise," he repeated.

She stopp