“Not you,” she answered, “ – myself.”

His instinct must have warned him what she was about to say before she spoke.

He sprang forward before the last word had passed her lips and, with a swiftness that was almost superhuman, he reached her side and struck her hand upwards as she pulled the trigger.

The bullet passed through her hair, singeing the curls and burying itself in the wall.

For a moment they stood looking at each other.

El Diablo’s face was as pale as hers.

Then, as he took the revolver from her nerveless fingers, she sank down on the floor at his feet, shaken by a tempest of uncontrollable weeping.

She was like a broken flower, her white dress billowing out around her, her face hidden in her hands, her whole body bowed in utter abandonment.

El Diablo stood staring at her bent head, an expression on his face that no one had ever seen before.

There came a loud knocking at the door.

“Señor! Señor! Is anything wrong?”

El Diablo started as if he had been awakened from a deep reverie.

He walked to the door and opened it a few inches.

“Everything is all right.”

“But, señor, there was a shot.”

“My revolver went off by mistake!”

“Excusa, señor, we were worried, but if all is well – ”

“All is well.”

El Diablo closed the door.

The only sound was the sobs of the woman, who had reached breaking point.

“For God’s sake, Skye, don’t cry like that!”

She heard his voice far away through the darkness of her misery.

“Skye, can you really care as much as that?” he asked gently.

“Do you imagine – that this – is a passing fancy?”

“No, I don’t believe that,” he replied. “But you don’t understand what you are asking in wishing to stay here with me.”

“With – you!” Skye repeated in a whisper. Then she threw back her head and put out her hands beseechingly. “I won’t be any trouble – only let me stay – just for a little while – ”

“Do you think I would want you for just a little while?” he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion. “If you stay, you stay forever. Do you understand what that means? You, who have wanted so urgently to escape and to be free of me. If you stay now, you will never be free again.”

Skye drew a deep breath.

It was as if life had suddenly come back into her face.

“I don’t want – to be – free – anymore.”

“Listen,” he said. “I married you for the sake of convenience, but I chose you because you were British, fair and lovely and not unlike someone I once loved! I chose you deliberately, meaning to hurt you as I had been hurt. It’s not a pretty story, but you had better know the truth.