While the first smart of pain was upon him, he would not return
to the house; he would wait until he was calm and cool. Then he
would see how she dared to meet him.
His hands ceased to tremble; the strong, angry pulsating of his
heart grew calmer. He went back to the drawing room; and, except
that the handsome face was pale even to the lips, and that a
strange, angry light gleamed in the frank, kindly eyes, there was
little difference in Lionel Dacre.
She was there, bending over the large folio he had asked her to
show him; the golden hair fell upon the leaves. She looked up as
he entered; her face was calm and serene; there was a faint pink
flush on the cheeks, and a bright smile trembled on her features.
"Here are the drawings," she said; "will you look over them?"
He remembered how he had asked her to sing to him, and she
refused, looking confused and uneasy the while. He understood
now the reason why.
He took a chair by her side; the folio lay upon a table placed in
a large room, lighted by a silver lamp. They were as much alone
there as though they had been in another room.
Pages:
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416