She was silent. His manner puzzled her, made her afraid in spite of
herself.
There followed a short pause, then he turned slightly and looked at her.
"Have you any particular wishes upon the subject?" he asked.
"Yes, monsieur."
Her reply was very low.
"Let me hear them," said Pierre.
"I should like," she said slowly, "if it be possible, to go to England.
I have relations there who might help me."
"Help you, mademoiselle?"
His tone sounded harsh.
"To earn my living," she answered simply.
His brows met suddenly.
"It is a far cry to England," he observed.
"I know it," she said. "I am counting upon your kindness."
"I see," said Pierre. "I am to take you there, and--leave you. Is that
it?"
She bent her head.
"If you will, monsieur."
"And if I will not?" he said.
She was silent.
He stood up abruptly, and walked to the farther end of the saloon. When
he came back his face was set and grim. He halted in front of her.
"I am to do this thing for nothing?" he said. And it seemed to her that,
though uttered quietly, his words came through clenched teeth.
Again wild panic was at her heart, but with all her strength she held it
back.
"You offered to serve me, monsieur," she reminded him.
"Even a servant expects to be paid," he rejoined curtly.
"But I have nothing to offer you," she said.
She saw the grey eyes glitter as steel in sudden sunshine.
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