Merryon leaned back in his chair, watching her.

The little, pointed features possessed no beauty, yet they had that which drew the attention irresistibly.

The delicate charm of her dancing was somehow expressed in every line.

There was fire, too,--a strange, bewitching fire,--behind the thick black lashes.
Very suddenly that fire was turned upon him again.

With a swift, darting movement she knelt up in front of him, her clasped hands on his knees.
"Why did you save me just now ?" she said.