You'll admit I'm not
asking much."
"You may have the food," Mrs. Wayne said, in a tone not without
compassion. "I'll go and get it."
For a minute or two there was no sound but that of her cough, as she sped
down a passage. Before speaking, Wayne passed his hand across his brow as
though in an effort to clear his mental vision.
"No; you don't seem to be asking much. But, as a matter of fact, you're
demanding my pledge to my country. I undertook to administer its laws--"
Ford sprang up.
"You've done it," he cried, "and I'm the result! You've administered the
law right up to its hilt, and your duty as a judge is performed. Surely
you're free now to think of yourself as a man and to treat me as one."
"I might do that, and still think you a man dangerous to leave at large."
"But do you?"
"That's my affair. Whatever your opinion of the courts that have judged
your case, I must accept their verdict."
"In your official capacity--yes; but not here, as host to the poor dog who
comes under your roof for shelter. My rights are sacred. Even the wild
Arab--"
He paused abruptly. Over Wayne's shoulder, through the window still open
to the terrace, he saw a figure cross the darkness.
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