Part 61 (1/2)

”I knew you were here.”

”So? Then Ma is awake again?”

Allie shook her head vaguely. ”I knew you were here the minute I came in. I can 'most always tell.” There had been a shadow of a smile upon her lips, but it vanished; a look of growing concern crept over her face. ”What's the matter? Whatever has happened, Mr. Gray?”

”Why, nothing. I was feeling tired, worn out. Indulging myself in a thoroughly enjoyable fit of the blues.” His voice broke when he tried to laugh.

Allie uttered a quick, low cry, a wordless, sympathetic sound. Her dark eyes widened, grew darker; she came forward a step or two, then she halted. ”Would you rather be alone?” she asked. He signified his dissent, and she went on: ”I know what the blues are like. I sit alone in the dark a good deal.”

She busied herself about the room for a few moments, straightening things, adjusting the window shades. Allie had the knack of silence, blessed attribute in man or woman, and to Gray's surprise he found that her mere presence was comforting. She startled him by saying, suddenly:

”You're hurt! Hurt badly!”

He looked up at her with an instinctive denial upon his lips, but, realizing the futility of deceit, he nodded. ”Yes, Allie.”

The girl drew a deep breath, her strong hands closed, harshly she said: ”I could kill anybody that hurt you. I wanted to kill Buddy that time.

Is it those Nelsons? Have they got you down?” There was something fierce and masterful in Allie's concern, and her inquiry carried with it even more than a proffer of help; she had, in fact, flung herself into a protective att.i.tude. She suggested nothing so much as a lioness roused.

”No, no! It is nothing like that. I merely fooled myself--had a dream.

You wouldn't understand, my dear.”