Part 74 (2/2)
The cut goes home. For a second Rylton winces, then his fingers close even more tightly over the paper he is holding, and a cynical smile crosses his lips.
”You believe much in money,” says he.
”I have reason to do so,” coldly. The strange smile on his lips has caught her attention, and has killed the more vehement form of her pa.s.sion. ”It induced you to marry me! Your mother told me so!”
”Did she?” He is smiling still. ”Well, all that is at an end.”
Something in his voice makes Margaret look quickly at him, and he flings the letter he has been crus.h.i.+ng in his hand to her. ”Read that!” says he.
Margaret catches it, opens it hurriedly, and reads. Her face grows very pale. She looks up.
”You got it?”
”By the night mail, two hours ago.”
”What is it?” demands t.i.ta imperiously.
She had taken no notice of his giving the letter to Margaret; but now she is sure that some mystery lies in it--a mystery that has something to do with her.
Margaret regards her piteously.
”My dear--I----”
She breaks down, and looks now at Rylton as if reproaching him for having cast this task upon her shoulders. Rylton shakes his head.
”From you--it will be kinder,” says he.
_”What_ is it?” asks t.i.ta again, taking a step towards Margaret, and holding out her hand for the letter.
”Your money!” falters Margaret nervously.
”Yes--yes!”
_ ”It is all gone!”_
”Gone?”
”All! There is nothing left,” says Margaret, pale as ashes.
”Gone!” t.i.ta repeats the word once or twice, as a child might, trying to learn a new syllable; she seems a little stunned. Then suddenly her whole face grows bright; it wakes into a new life as it were. ”Is it _all_ gone?” asks she.
”Yes, my dearest girl, I am afraid so. But you must not be unhappy, t.i.ta; I----”
”Oh, _unhappy!”_ cries the girl, in a high clear tone, one full of fresh, sweet courage and delight. She walks straight up to Rylton.
_”Now I can leave you!”_ says she.
If she had been planning a revenge, she could hardly have arranged it better. Rylton looks back at her. He is silent, but she reads the disturbance of his soul in his firmly shut mouth, and the little, quick, flittering frown that draws his brows together in momentary rapidity. He had thought many things of her, but that she should hail with rapture the ruin that seemed to give her a chance of escape from him--_that_ thought had not been his.
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