Part 58 (1/2)
”No,” replied the girl. ”My name is Beth Cameron.”
”Beth----?”
”Cameron,” she finished firmly.
”Oh----”
The stranger seemed to be examining her with a glowing interest, but his look was clouded.
Beth had decided that until Peter came explaining she had no further possible interest either in him or his affairs, but in spite of this she found her lips suddenly asking,
”Are you a friend of Mr. Nichols's?”
The man in the portico grinned somberly.
”Yes. I guess I am--an old friend--before he came to America.”
”Oh!” said Beth quietly. ”You've known him a long time then?”
”Ye might say so. We were buddies together.”
”Then you knew him in--in London?”
The man grinned. ”Can't say I did. Not in London. Why do you ask?”
”Oh, I just wanted to know.”
The gaze of the stranger upon her was disquieting. His eyes seemed to be smoldering like embers just ready to blaze. She knew that she ought to be returning and yet she didn't want to go leaving her object unaccomplished, the dignity of her plan having already been greatly disturbed. And so she hesitated, curiosity at war with discretion.
”Would you mind telling me your name?” she asked timidly.
The man shrugged a shoulder and glanced away from her. ”I reckon my name wouldn't mean much to you.”
”Oh--I'm sorry. Perhaps I shouldn't have asked?”
The stranger put his hands into his coat pockets and stared down at Beth with a strange intrusive kind of smile.
”You and Pete seem kind of thick, don't ye?” he muttered.
”Pete!”
”Pete Nichols. That's his name, ain't it? Kind of thick, I'd say. I can't blame him though----”
”You're mistaken,” said Beth with dignity, ”there's nothin' between Peter Nichols and me.” And turning heel, Beth took a step away.
”There! Put my foot in it, didn't I? I'm sorry. Don't go yet. I want to ask ye something.”
Beth paused and found that the stranger had come out from the portico and still stood beside her. And as her look inquired fearlessly,
”It's about your name, Miss,” he muttered, and then with an effort spoke the word savagely, as though it had been wrenched from him by an effort of will, ”Cameron----? Your name's Cameron?”