The latter she raised, however, as she accepted the chair
which Wingrave had placed for her. He saw then that she was pale, and
her manner betrayed an altogether unfamiliar nervousness. She avoided
his eyes.
"Did you expect me?" she asked.
"Yes!" he answered, "I thought that you would come."
Her foot, long and slender, beat impatiently upon the ground. She
looked up at him once, but immediately withdrew her eyes.
"Why did you bring me here?" she asked in a low tone.
"My dear Lady Ruth!" he protested.
"If you want to play at being friends," she said, "for heaven's sake
call me Ruth. You found it easy enough once."
"You are very kind," he answered. "Ruth, by all means."
"Now will you answer my question?" she said. "Do you mean--to help
us?"
"Us--no!" he answered; "you--perhaps yes!" he added.
Then she looked at him, and found herself puzzled by the perfect
impassivity of his features. Surely he would drop the mask now. He had
insisted upon her coming!
"Perhaps?" she repeated. "What then--are the conditions?"
He bent over towards her. Curiously enough, there was, mingled with
many other sensations, a certain sense of triumph in the thought, it
was almost a hope, that at last he was going to betray himself, that
he was going to admit tacitly, or by imputation, that her power over
him was not wholly dead. It was a terrible situation--in her heart she
felt so, but it had its compensations.
Pages:
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202