She might decide to see _him_ alone; but what if he refused to see _her_?
Instinctively Fay knew that he would so refuse.
"We must part." Just so.

But how to hold him?
How to draw him to her just once more?
That was the crux.
In novels if a woman needs the help of the chivalrous man ever kneeling in the background, she sends him a ring.

Fay looked earnestly at her rings.

But Michael might not understand if she sent him one, and if the duke intercepted it he would certainly entirely misconstrue the situation.
Fay sat down at her writing-table, and got out her note-paper.

Truth compels me to state that it was of blue linen, that it had a little gilt coronet on it, and that it was scented.
She thought a long time.