Unorna's hand dropped to her side, and a quick throb of pain stabbed her through and through, agonising as the wound of a blunt and jagged knife, though it was gone almost before she knew where she had felt it.

Then her eyes flashed with unlike fires, the one dark and passionate as the light of a black diamond, the other keen and daring as the gleam of blue steel in the sun.
"Ah, but I will!" she exclaimed.

"And what I will--shall be." As though she were satisfied with the promise thus made to herself, she smiled, her eyelids drooped, the tension of her frame was relaxed, and she sank again into the indolent attitude in which the Wanderer had found her.

A moment later the distant door turned softly upon its hinges and a light footfall broke the stillness.

There was no need for Unorna to speak in order that the sound of her voice might guide the new comer to her retreat.