He made an impatient little gesture. “I am taking you away because you are not safe in London. You need have no fear. You will be well looked after.”

Penelope did not miss the sinister construction that might have been put upon his words. She felt herself shudder inwardly. But to the man she presented a brave front.

“Why?” she demanded again. “I am nothing to you. I insist that you put me down.”

“And let Labar twist you as he will. I am not raving mad.” With a sudden movement he possessed himself of her hands. “Penelope, you are something to me. Can’t you understand, child? You are everything to me.”

“No,” she protested. “Do not touch me.”

He paid no heed. “I want you, child. I have wanted you ever since I met you. Listen. You have no one to consider but yourself. I am rich⁠—richer than you could imagine. I can give you everything that the world holds. You and I together. Will you marry me?”