Up to that moment she had been barely aware of its existence, but now she felt it stirring, and strangely she was afraid.
Was it the call of the East, the wonder of the moonlight?
Or was it some greater thing yet, such as had never before entered into her life?
She could not say; but her face was still firmly set towards the goal of liberty.

Whatever was in store for her, she meant to extricate herself.
She meant to cling to her freedom at all costs.

When next she stood upon that verandah, the ordeal she had begun to dread so needlessly, so unreasonably, would be over, and she would have emerged triumphant.
So she told herself, even while the shiver of apprehension which she could not control went through her, causing her to draw her wrap more closely about her though there was nought but a pleasant coolness in the soft air that blew across the plain.
She and Tommy were to drive with the Ralstons to the ruined palace in the jungle of Khanmulla where the picnic was to take place.

She had never seen it, but had heard it described as the most romantic spot in Markestan.

It had been the site of a fierce battle in some bye-gone age, and its glories had departed.