With a tiger spring he
turned on her, and his right hand was feeling for her throat. At
the same instant with the other hand he crumpled up the paper
that lay before him. For an instant he stood glaring. Then
astonishment and joy took the place of the ferocity which had
convulsed his features--a ferocity which had sent her shrinking
back in horror as from something which had never before intruded
into her gentle life.
"It's you!" said he, mopping his brow. "And to think that you
should come to me, heart of my heart, and I should find nothing
better to do than to want to strangle you! Come then, darling,"
and he held out his arms, "let me make it up to you."
But she had not recovered from that sudden glimpse of guilty fear
which she had read in the man's face. All her woman's instinct
told her that it was not the mere fright of a man who is
startled. Guilt--that was it--guilt and fear!
"What's come over you, Jack?" she cried. "Why were you so scared
of me? Oh, Jack, if your conscience was at ease, you would not
have looked at me like that!"
"Sure, I was thinking of other things, and when you came tripping
so lightly on those fairy feet of yours--"
"No, no, it was more than that, Jack.
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