His hand grasped hers firmly; she grasped his in return. "You
heard what your Boer friend called me," she said. "He wouldn't
understand anything else."
"I told him to call you that," said Burke.
"You--told him!" She gave a great start. His words amazed her.
"Yes." There was a dogged quality in his answer. "I had to
protect you somehow. He had seen us together at Ritzen. I said
you were my wife."
Sylvia gasped in speechless astonishment.
He went on ruthlessly. "It was the only thing to do. They're not
a particularly moral crowd here, and, as you say, they wouldn't
understand anything else--decent. Do you object to the idea? Do
you object very strongly?"
There was something masterful in the persistence with which he
pressed the question. Sylvia had a feeling as of being held down
and compelled to drink some strangely paralyzing draught.
She made a slight, half-scared movement and in a moment his hand
released hers.
"You do object!" he said.
She clasped her hands tightly together. "Please don't say--or
think--that! It is such a sudden idea, and--it's rather a wild
one, isn't it?" Her breath came quickly. "If--if I agreed--and
let the pretence go on--people would be sure to find out sooner or
later. Wouldn't they?"
"I am not suggesting any pretence," he said.
"What do you mean then?" Sylvia said, compelling herself to speak
steadily.
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