stood before him, white but calm.

"Because," she said, "I am a woman."

"That means that you came without reason--on impulse?" he asked.

"I came," she said, "because I heard that you were about to take a step
which must separate us for ever."

"And that," he asked, "disturbed you?"

"Yes!"

"Come, we are drawing nearer together," he said, a kindling light in
his eyes. "Now answer me this. How much do you care if this eternal
separation does come? Here am I on the threshold of action. Unless I
change my mind within ten minutes I must throw in my lot with those whom
you and your Order loathe and despise. There can be no half measures.
I must be their leader, or I must vanish from the face of the
political world. This I will do if you bid me. But the price must be
yourself--wholly, without reservation--yourself, body and soul."

"You care--as much as that?" she murmured.

"Ask me no questions, answer mine!" he cried fiercely. "You shall stay
with me here--or in five minutes I leave on my campaign."

She laughed musically.

"This is positively delicious," she exclaimed. "I am being made love to
in medieval fashion. Other times other manners, sir! Will you listen to
reason?"

"I will listen to nothing--save your answer, yes or no," he declared,
drawing on his overcoat.

She laid her hand upon his shoulder.

"Reginald," she said, "you are like the whirlwind--and how can I answer
you in five minutes!"

"You can answer me in one," he declared fiercely. "Will you pay my price
if I do your bidding? Yes or no! The price is yourself. Now! Yes or no?"

She drew on her own cloak and fastened the clasp with shaking fingers.
Then she turned towards the door.

"I wish you good-bye and good fortune, Reginald," she said. "I daresay
we may not meet again. It will be better that we do not."

"This then is your answer?" he cried.

She looked around at him. Was it his fancy, or were those tears in her
eyes? Or was she really so wonderful an actress?

"Do you think," she said, "that if I had not cared I should have come
here?"

"Tell me that in plain words," he cried. "It is all I ask."

The door was suddenly opened. Grahame stood upon the threshold. He
looked beyond Lucille to Brott.

"You must really forgive me," he said, "but there is barely time to
catch the train, Brott. I have a hansom waiting, and your luggage is
on."

Brott answered nothing. Lucille held out her hands to him.

"Yes or no?" he asked he