" She waited.
"Why can't I refuse?" he whispered, gloomily, without looking up.
"You ask!" she exclaimed. He made no sign. He seemed at a loss for
words.
"You ask . . . Ah!" she cried. "Don't you see that I have no kingdoms to
conquer?"
III
A slight change of expression which passed away almost directly showed
that Lingard heard the passionate cry wrung from her by the distress of
her mind. He made no sign. She perceived clearly the extreme difficulty
of her position. The situation was dangerous; not so much the facts
of it as the feeling of it. At times it appeared no more actual than a
tradition; and she thought of herself as of some woman in a ballad, who
has to beg for the lives of innocent captives. To save the lives of Mr.
Travers and Mr. d'Alcacer was more than a duty. It was a necessity, it
was an imperative need, it was an irresistible mission. Yet she had to
reflect upon the horrors of a cruel and obscure death before she could
feel for them the pity they deserved. It was when she looked at Lingard
that her heart was wrung by an extremity of compassion. The others were
pitiful, but he, the victim of his own extravagant impulses, appeared
tragic, fascinating, and culpable. Lingard lifted his head. Whispers
were heard at the door and Hassim followed by Immada entered the cabin.
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