Part 68 (2/2)

”I believe you have, Nap,” she said, with a touch of wistfulness.

”It isn't your fault,” he said, ”that you weren't made subtle enough.

You've done your best.”

He came and sat down facing her as she desired. The strong electric light beat upon his face also, but it revealed nothing to her anxious eyes--nothing save that faint, cynical smile that masked so much.

She shook her head. She was clasping and unclasping her hands restlessly.

”A very poor best, Nap,” she said. ”I know only too well how badly I've failed. It never seemed to matter till lately, and now I would give the eyes out of my head to have a little influence with you.”

”That so?” he said again.

She made a desperate gesture. ”Yes, you sit there and smile. It doesn't matter to you who suffers so long as you can grab what you want.”

”How do you know what I want?” he said.

”I don't know,” said Mrs. Errol. ”I only surmise.”

”And you think that wise? You are not afraid of tripping up in the dark?”

She stretched out her hands to him in sudden earnest entreaty. ”Nap, tell me that it isn't Anne Carfax, and I'll bless you with my dying breath!”

But he looked at her without emotion. He took her hands after a moment, but it was the merest act of courtesy. He did not hold them.

”And if it were?” he said slowly, his hard eyes fixed on hers.

She choked back her agitation with the tears running down her face. ”Then G.o.d help Lucas--and me too--for it will be his death-blow!”

”Lucas?” said Nap.

He did not speak as if vitally interested, yet she answered as if compelled.

”He loves her. He can't do without her. She has been his mainstay all through the winter. He would have died without her.”

Nap pa.s.sed over the information as though it were of no importance. ”He is no better then?” he asked.

”Yes, he is better. But he has been real sick. No one knows what he has come through, and there is that other operation still to be faced. I'm scared to think of it. He hasn't the strength of a mouse. It's only the thought of Anne that makes him able to hold on. I can see it in his eyes day after day--the thought of winning out and making her his wife.”

Again he pa.s.sed the matter over. ”When does Capper come again?”

”Very soon now. In two or three weeks. There was a letter from him to-day, Lucas was quite excited about it, but I fancy it upset dear Anne some. You see--she loves him too.”

There fell a silence. Mrs. Errol wiped her eyes and strove to compose herself. Somehow he had made her aware of the futility of tears. She wondered what was pa.s.sing in his mind as he sat there sphinx-like, staring straight before him. Had she managed to reach his heart, she wondered? Or was there perchance no heart behind that inscrutable mask to reach? Yet she had always believed that after his own savage fas.h.i.+on he had loved Lucas.

Suddenly he rose. ”If you have quite done with me, alma mater, I'll go.”

She looked up at him apprehensively. ”What are you going to do?”

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