A Proposal

She shrank back with a great dread in her heart. Marlanx, of all men!
Why was he in the park at this hour of the night? There could be but one
answer, and the very thought of it almost suffocated her. He was drawing
the net with his own hands, he was spying with his own eyes. For a full
minute it seemed to her that her heart would stop beating. How long had
he been standing there? What had he seen or heard? Involuntarily she
peered over the rail for a glimpse of Baldos. He had gone out into the
darkness, missing the men at the lamp-post either by choice or through
pure good fortune. A throb of thankfulness assailed her heart. She was
not thinking of her position, but of his.

Again she drew stealthily away from the rail, possessed of a ridiculous
feeling that her form was as plain to the vision as if it were broad
daylight. The tread of a man impelled her to glance below once more
before fleeing to her room. Marlanx was coming toward the verandah. She
fled swiftly, pausing at the window to lower the friendly but forgotten
umbrella. From below came the sibilant hiss of a man seeking to attract
her attention. Once more she stopped to listen. The "hist" was repeated,
and then her own name was called softly but imperatively. It was beyond
the power of woman to keep from laughing. It struck her as irresistibly
funny that the Iron Count should be standing out there in the rain,
signaling to her like a love-sick boy. Once she was inside, however, it
did not seem so amusing. Still, it gave her an immense amount of
satisfaction to slam the windows loudly, as if in pure defiance. Then
she closed the blinds, shutting out the night completely.