“No right? Have I no right, Mary?” he said unsteadily. He stretched out his hands. “Mary⁠—”

For a moment, I thought she wavered. A softer expression came over her face, then suddenly she turned almost fiercely away.

“None!”

She was walking away when John sprang after her, and caught her by the arm.

“Mary”⁠—his voice was very quiet now⁠—“are you in love with this fellow Bauerstein?”

She hesitated, and suddenly there swept across her face a strange expression, old as the hills, yet with something eternally young about it. So might some Egyptian sphinx have smiled.

She freed herself quietly from his arm, and spoke over her shoulder.