Almost she regretted the love which had so violently mastered her.

It had made clear to her her ignorance and so stripped her of all assurance and left her defenceless.
But even in the tumult of her thoughts, she began to recognise a change.
The air was less charged with terror.

There was less of passion and anger in Mario Escobar, and more of speculation.

He watched her in a gloomy silence, and each moment she took fresh heart.

With a swift movement he seated himself on the couch beside her.
Joan sprang up with a little cry, and her heart thumping in her breast.
"Hush!" said Escobar.