Be comforted then and trust me, Cleone."
Then, she stirred in his embrace, and, sighing, hid her face close
against him and, with her face thus hidden, spoke:
"Yes, yes--I do trust you, Barnabas, utterly, utterly! Take me away
with you--tonight, take me to Ronald and let us go away together, no
matter where so long as--we go--together, Barnabas." Now when she
said this, she could feel how his arms tightened about her, could
hear how his breath caught sudden and sharp, and, though she kept
her face hid from him, well she knew what look was in his eyes;
therefore she lay trembling a little, sighing a little, and with
fast-beating heart. And, in a while, Barnabas spoke:
"My lady," said he heavily, "would you trust yourself to--a
publican's son?"
"If he would not be--too proud to--take me, Barnabas."
"Oh, my lady--can't you see that if I--if I take you with me tonight,
you must be with me--always?"
Cleone sighed.
"And I am a discredited impostor, the--the jest of every club in
London!"
Cleone's hand stole up, and she touched his grimly-set chin very
gently with one white finger.
"I am become a thing for the Fashionable World to sharpen its wits
upon," he continued, keeping his stern gaze perseveringly averted.
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