Part 109 (1/2)
”He's got nerves of steel. I am sure of it. Besides--”
She paused, and a strange conscious look came into her face--a look which Lady Sellingworth did not understand.
”Yes?” she said at last, as Beryl did not speak.
”Adela, I know you will not believe me. I know--you spoke once of my being very vain, but--but there are things a girl does know about a man, really there are! They may seem ridiculous, crazy to others, but--”
”What is it, Beryl?”
”I believe besides wanting my money he wants _me_. That's why I'm afraid. If it weren't for that I--perhaps I shouldn't have come to-night. Can you believe it?”
Lady Sellingworth looked at the girl with eyes which in spite of herself were hard. She knew they were hard, but she could not help it. Then she said:
”Yes, I can believe it.”
”And that he may--he may persist in spite of all. He may refuse to give it up.”
”Haven't you got a will?”
”Yes.”
”Can't you use it?”
”Yes. But I'm afraid of him. I believe I've always been afraid of him.
No one else has ever been able to make me feel as I do about him. Once I read an article in a paper. It was about a horrible play--a woman who was drawn to a man irresistibly in spite of herself, to a hateful man, a murderer. And she went; she had to go. I remember I thought of _him_ then. It was a fascination of fear, Adela. There are such things.”
”Do you mean to say that after what I have told you--”
”I want someone to get him away, to drive him away from me so that I shall never see him, so that he will never come near me again! I might go to Paris. But it would be no use. He would follow me there. I might go to America. But that would be just the same. He says so in this letter.”
She held up the letter in her hand.
”Does he threaten you?”
”No--not exactly! No, he doesn't! It's worse than that. If he did I think I might find the courage. He's subtle, Adela. He's horribly subtle! Besides, he doesn't know--he can't know that you have told me what he is.”
”He might guess it. He probably guessed it. He recognized me in the restaurant.”
”Yes. He didn't want you to come to our table. But he never spoke of you afterwards. He didn't say a word, or show the slightest sign. But in this letter I feel that he suspects--that he is afraid something may happen through you, and that--”
”Perhaps he knows you came to see me last night.”
”How could he?”
”It wouldn't be difficult for a man of that type.”
”I walked home alone, and n.o.body--”
”That doesn't prove anything. He is subtle, as you say.”