"There's nothing to be done!" she reiterated again, with a pitiable little catch in her voice.
And after awhile he said quite quietly and deliberately:
"The only thing to be done, my dear, is to comply with Naniescu's wish."
But against this she at once exclaimed, hot with indignation, and he went on with a sigh: "I know, I know. You are such a sweet, enthusiastic creature, and you have embraced the cause of these good people whole-heartedly, injudiciously. I don't want to influence you, of course----"
"You promised me that you would not," she retorted.
"I know! I know! You would not be the adorable creature that you are if you were not unreasonable sometimes. But--I put it to you--what harm would you do in writing the articles that Naniescu wants?"
This question roused Rosemary's indignation once more.
"How can you ask?" she queried. "To begin with I should alienate from these wretched people over here all the sympathy which Philip Imrey's articles have aroused for them abroad. Never again after that could any friend raise a voice on their behalf. Naniescu or his kind would have a free hand. He knows that well enough. Not only he, but all the waverers, all the selfish and the indifferent could in future point to the _Times_ and say: 'Hardship! Nonsense! Why, here was an independent lady journalist--and a woman at that--with every opportunity for getting at the truth, and she writes at full length to tell the entire world that the administration in Transylvania is a model of equity and benevolence.' And mothers like Elza would cry in vain because their sons had been torn from them, families would be sent into exile, fathers, brothers murdered, oppression, confiscation, outrage would go unpunished, all because one woman had been too great a coward to smother sentiment under the mantle of justice."
Jasper had not uttered a word, hardly made a sign, while Rosemary spoke her impassioned tirade. Only from time to time his dark eyes flashed with a glance of admiration on his beautiful wife, who, with flaming cheeks and slightly dishevelled hair, looked perhaps more desirable in her indignation than she had ever done in repose.
When she paused for want of breath he slowly shook his head.