"Guy," said she, "I ask you to forget our profession if you can, and take what I am about to say as free from guile or expediency--and of supreme importance to me. I'm just a simple woman now, with a woman's desires and affection and hopes. I've come to the parting of the ways: on one side lie power, excitement, loneliness; on the other, contentment, peace, companionship. I'll choose the latter, if you're willing. You have but to say the word and I'll give up everything, confess what I'm here for, what I've done, and what is arranged for in the future."
"Upon what condition, Madeline?" he smiled, more puzzled than ever. He was almost ready to believe she meant it.
She caught her breath, hesitated, blushed furiously--and answered softly:
For the instant Harleston was too amazed for words; and, despite all his training in dissimulation, his surprise was evidenced in his face. Small wonder he had been unable to make out the play--it was not a play; she meant it. She was ready to throw her mission overboard to attain her personal end.
"Will you marry me, old enemy?" she whispered, putting out her hand to him and smiting him with a ravishing smile--a smile such as she had had for but one other man. It had been utterly lost on that other, but it had almost won with Harleston; and it might have won now with him but for another's smile, she of the ruddy tresses and peach-blow cheek.
"My dear Madeline," said he slowly, holding her hand with intimate pressure, "I cannot permit you to betray yourself for me. You are--"
"Quite old enough in the ways of the world," she interjected, "to know my own mind. I love you, Guy, and unless I've mistaken your attitude, you love me. When our minds meet in such a matter, why should anything be permitted to intervene?" Her hand still lay in his; her eyes held his; her personality fairly enveloped them. With lips a little parted, she bent toward him. "It's a bit unusual, dear, for the woman to propose, to the man, but we are an unusual two, and the business of life has shaken us free from the conventions of the drawing-room and frothy society. With us there need be no cant nor pretence nor false modesty, because there is not the slightest possibility of misunderstanding."