He smiled down at her suddenly. "Bon Dieu! Do you know how
beautiful you are?" he murmured. But the sound of his voice seemed to
break a spell that had kept her dumb. She struggled again to free
herself.
"Let me go!" she cried piteously, and it was her complete immunity from
him that she prayed for, but he chose wilfully to misunderstand her.
The passion faded from his eyes, giving place to a gleam of mockery.
"There is plenty of time. Gaston is the most discreet servant. We shall
hear him when he comes," he said with a low laugh.
But she persisted with the courage of desperation. "When will you let
me go?"
With an exclamation of impatience he put her from him roughly, and
going to the divan flung himself down on the cushions, lit another
cigarette and picked up a magazine that was lying on an inlaid stool
beside him.
She bit her lips to keep back the hysterical sobs that rose in her
throat, nerving herself with clenched hands, and followed him. "You
must tell me. I must know. When will you let me go?"
He turned a page with deliberation, and flicked the ash from his
cigarette before looking up. A heavy scowl gathered on his face, and
his eyes swept her from head to foot with a slow scrutiny that made her
shrink. "When I am tired of you," he said coldly.
She shuddered violently and turned away with a little moan, stumbling
blindly towards the inner room, but as she reached the curtains his
voice arrested her. He had thrown aside the magazine and was lying back
on the divan, his long limbs stretched out indolently, his hands
clasped behind his head.
"You make a very charming boy," he said lightly, with a faint smile,
"but it was not a boy that I saw in Biskra. You understand?"
Beyond the curtains she stood a moment, shaking all over, her face
hidden in her hands, able to relax a little the hold she was keeping on
herself. Yes! She understood, plainly enough. The understanding had
already been forced upon her. It was an order from one who was prepared
to compel his commands, to make herself more attractive with all that
it implied in the eyes of the man who held her in his power and who
looked at her as no other man had ever dared to look, with appraising
criticism that made her acutely conscious of her sex, that made her
feel like a slave exposed for sale in a public market.