Part 91 (1/2)
”Of course not! How could you? She must be at the office, and won't be back for hours. So you see we are quite alone!”
She did not know why she said that, and, in spite of the voice which she tried to render cheerful, her lip trembled. Then she laughed, though there was nothing to laugh at, and down at the bottom of her heart she was afraid. But she began moving about, trying to make herself easy and pretending not to be alarmed.
”Well, won't you help me off with my cloak? No? Then I must do it for myself I suppose.”
Throwing off her outer things, she walked across the room and sat down on the sofa near to where he stood.
”How tired I am! It's been such a day! Once is enough for that sort of thing, though! Now where do you think I've been?”
”I know where you've been, Glory--I saw you there.”
”You? Really? Then perhaps it _was_ you who----Was it you in the hollow?”
”Yes.”
He had moved to avoid contact with her, but now, standing by the mantelpiece looking into her face, he could not help recognising in the fas.h.i.+onable woman at his feet the features of the girl once so dear to him, the brilliant eyes, the long lashes, the twitching of the eyelids, and the restless movement of the mouth. Then the wave of tenderness came sweeping over him again and he felt as if the ground were slipping beneath his feet.
”Will you say your prayers to-night. Glory?” he said,
”Why not?” she answered, trying to laugh.
”Then why not say them now, my child?”
”But why?”
He had made her tremble all over, but she got up, walked straight across to him, looked intently into his face for a moment, and then said: ”What is the matter? Why are you so pale? You are not well, John!”
”No, I'm not well either.” he answered.
”John, John, what does it all mean? What are you thinking of? Why have you come here to-night?”
”To save your soul, my child. It is in great, great peril.”
At first she took this for the common, everyday language of the devotee, but another look into his face banished that interpretation, and her fear rose to terror. Nevertheless she talked lightly, hardly knowing what she said. ”Am I, then, so very wicked? Surely Heaven doesn't want me yet, John. Some day I trust--I hope----”
”To-night, to-night--_now!_”
Then her cheeks turned pale and her lips became white and bloodless.
She had returned to the sofa, and half rose from it, then sat back, stretching out one hand as if to ward off a blow, but still keeping her eyes riveted on his face. Once she looked round to the door and tried to cry out, but her voice would not answer her.
This speechless fright lasted only a moment. Then she was herself again, and looked fearlessly up at him. She had the full use of her intellect, and her quick instinct went to the root of things. ”This is the madness of jealousy,” she thought. ”There is only one way to deal with it. If I cry out--if I show that I am afraid--if I irritate him, it will soon, be over.” She told herself in a moment that she must try gentleness, tenderness, reason, affection, love.
Trembling from head to foot, she stepped up to him again, and began softly and sweetly trying to explain herself. ”John, dear John, if you see me with certain people and in certain places you must not think from that----”
But he broke in upon her with a torrent of words. ”I can't think of it at all, Glory. When I look ahead I see nothing but shame and misery and degradation for you in the future. That man is destroying you body and soul. He is leading you on to the devil and h.e.l.l and d.a.m.nation, and I can not stand by and see it done!”
”Believe me, John, you are mistaken, quite mistaken.” But, with a look of sombre fury, he cried, ”Can you deny it?”
”I can protect and care for myself, John.”
”With that man's words in your ears, still can you deny it?”