Part 44 (1/2)

”There's more than one opinion as to that.”

”I tell you, this is between her and me. You'll keep out of it,” said Blake, with a forcefulness that the other could not withstand. ”Don't worry. You'll have your turn later on.”

”Deuce take it!” cried the Englishman. ”You can't fancy I'm dwelling on that! You can't think me such a cad as to be waiting for an opportunity derived from an injustice to you!”

”Injustice, _bah!_” gibed Blake. ”I'll get what's coming to me. It's of her I'm thinking, not you. She was right. I'm going to tell her so.

That's all.”

”But, in view of what she herself did--”

”I'll tell her the facts. That's enough,” said Blake, and he led the way from the car.

He hastened out of the depot and would have started off afoot, had not Lord James hailed a taxicab and taken him and Griffith home. He went in with them, and when Blake had shaved and dressed, proposed that they should go on together as far as the hotel. To this Blake gave a sullen acquiescence, and they whirred away to the North Side. But instead of stopping at the hotel, their cab sped on out to the Lake Sh.o.r.e Drive.

Lord James coolly explained that he intended to take his friend to the door of the Leslies. Blake would have objected, but acquiesced as soon as he understood that Lord James intended to remain in the cab.

During the day the cold had moderated, and when Blake swung out of the cab he was wrapped about in the chilly embrace of a dripping wet fog from off the lake. He s.h.i.+vered as he hurried across and up the steps and into the stately portico of the Leslie house.

At the touch of his finger on the electric b.u.t.ton, the heavy door swung open. He was bowed in and divested of hat and raincoat by an overzealous footman before he could protest. Silent and frowning, he was ushered to a door that he had not before entered. The footman announced him and drew the curtains together behind him.

Still frowning, Blake stepped forward and stopped short to stare about him at the resplendent room of gold and ivory enamel that he had entered. Only at the second glance did he perceive the graceful figure that had risen from the window-seat at the far end of the room and stood in a startled att.i.tude, gazing fixedly at him.

Before he could speak, Genevieve came toward him with impetuous swiftness, her hands outstretched in more than cordial welcome.

”Tom! Is it really you?” she exclaimed. ”I had not looked for you back so soon.”

”It's somewhat sooner than I expected myself,” he replied, with a bitter humor that should have forewarned her.

But she was too relieved and delighted to heed either his tone or his failure to clasp her hands, ”Yes. You know, I've been so worried. You really looked ill Sunday, and I thought Lord James' manner that evening was rather odd--I mean when I spoke to him about you.”

”Shouldn't wonder,” said Blake in a harsh voice. ”Jimmy had been there before. He knew.”

”Knew? You mean--?” The girl stepped back a little way and gazed up into his face, startled and anxious. ”Tom, you _have_ been sick--very sick! How could I have been so blind as not to have seen it at once?

You've been suffering terribly!”

Again she held out her hands to him, and again he failed to take them.

”Don't touch me,” he replied. ”I'm not fit. It's true I've suffered. Do you wonder? I've been in h.e.l.l again--where I belong.”

”Tom! oh, Tom!--no, no!” she whispered, and she averted her face, unable to endure the black despair that she saw in his unflinching eyes.

”Jimmy and old Grif, between them, managed to catch me when I was under full headway,” he explained. ”They stopped me and took me up to the Michamac Bridge. I'm on my feet again now. Just the same, I went under, and if it hadn't been for them, I'd be beastly, roaring drunk this minute.”

”No, Tom! It's impossible--impossible! I can't believe it!”

”Think I'd lie about a little thing like that?” he asked with the terrible levity of utter despair.

”But it's--it's so awful!”