He thought this over. "Then I refuse to go," he decided quietly. "I
refuse." And he bowed toward the door to put a period to our interview.

But here my patience broke. I took him by the arm, and held him
ungently. "Words! Words! Words!" I mocked at him. "What would you
have me say? That I love you? In faith, I don't. You irritate me;
annoy me. But save you I will, if only for my peace of mind. Look at
me. Look at me, I say."

He obeyed. All his hard nonchalance had returned.

"Do you trust me?" I demanded.

"Yes, monsieur."

"Then you will come with me?"

"No, monsieur."

This was madness--and it took time. "Indeed you will come," I said
between my teeth. "And that without more words. Good-by."

But he caught my sleeve. "Then you take me against my will."

I brushed him away. "And against mine, too, if you balk my wishes at
every turn. But I will take you. It is the only chance you have, and
if you are mad enough to refuse it, I must force it on you. Remember,
I shall use force. Now stay by the window, and await my signal. I
shall come when I can."