"Don't be angry with me," he repeated. "If my suspicion, my fear, is
unfounded, I beg your pardon with all my heart."
Sylvia got up and touched the driver on the shoulder. "Please slow down,"
she said in French, "we are going faster than I like."
Then she sank back in her seat. "Yes, Bill! What is it you wish to ask
me? I couldn't hear you properly. We were going too fast."
"Is it possible, is it conceivable, that you are thinking of marrying
this Frenchman?"
"No," said Sylvia, very quietly, "I am not thinking of marrying the Comte
de Virieu. But he is my friend. I--I like and respect him. No, Bill, you
need not fear that the Comte de Virieu will ever ask me to become his
wife."
"But if he did?" asked Chester, hoarsely.
"You have no right to ask me such a question," she answered,
passionately; and then, after a pause, she added, in a low voice: "But
if he did, I should say no, Bill."
Her eyes were full of tears. As for Chester, he felt a variety of
conflicting emotions, of which perhaps the strongest was a determination
that if he could not get her no one else should do so.
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