“I command you to turn round. Have I got to make you obey me?”

She turned then with a sudden jerk, as if she was a marionette controlled by strings and in the light of the lamps he saw her face with tears glittering on her long lashes and running unchecked down her cheeks.

“Very well – then,” Skye said in a low voice raw with suffering. “Look at me! Look at me – and laugh! This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To make me love you and then – throw me away, as you have thrown away all those other women who were foolish enough to lay their hearts at your feet. I thought I had – no heart. I thought I hated you! But you’ve won – I love you! And now – now – laugh!”

Her voice died away on a heartbreaking sob, but still she faced him.

“You don’t know what you are saying,” El Diablo exclaimed.

“I do,” Skye contradicted. “I love you, I am – not ashamed to say it. I love you.”

“You are mistaken!”

“Not about this – I love you – let me stay!”

“No!”

His eyes were dark and hard as agates.

“Please – please – it is not much to ask – ”

“No!”

She put out her hands beseechingly, all pride forgotten.

“I won’t be a nuisance – I won’t ask anything if you only let me stay.”

“It is impossible!”

“But why? I will make no claims upon you – no one need even know I am your wife – unless you wish it.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then let me remain – in Jācara – ”

“No!”

With a sudden defiance that was somehow heartbreakingly pathetic she then said,

“So you have found – the flaws in your – slave.”

He did not answer and she went on,

“Or perhaps you have chosen – another? One who will – amuse you until she too is fool enough to offer you – ‘mawkish sentimentality’.”

“There is nothing like that!”

“Then why – why?”

“Explanations will get us nowhere. You leave tomorrow.”

“I beg you to – ”

“It’s useless to say any more.”

She saw the inflexibility of his expression and she knew only too well his determination when he had made up his mind about something.

With a little helpless gesture of utter despair she closed her eyes.

She knew then that she could not live without him and could not go on alone – the emptiness of the years ahead with only her memories to support her was too bitter to be contemplated.

She opened her eyes.

He had walked away from her to the fireplace on the other side of the room. She thought that he could not even bear to look at her.

Like a sleepwalker she moved towards the leather belt he had thrown over the chair on entering and, still as if she was in a dream, she drew his revolver from it.

He turned as she took it in her hand.

“Still intent on killing me?” he asked grimly.