head with emotions even more bitter than those of grief, I turned a questioning look up at George’s face.
It was fixed with a purpose I had no trouble in understanding.
II. “I KNOW THE MAN”
Yet he made no effort to detain Mr. Slater, when that gentleman, under this renewed excitement, hastily left us. He was not the man to rush into anything impulsively, and not even the presence of murder could change his ways.
“I want to feel sure of myself,” he explained. “Can you bear the strain of waiting around a little longer, Laura? I mustn’t forget that you fainted just now.”
“Yes, I can bear it; much better than I could bear going to Adela’s in my present state of mind. Don’t you think the man we saw had something to do with this? Don’t you believe—”
“Hush! Let us listen rather than talk. What are they saying over there? Can you hear?”
“No. And I cannot bear to look. Yet I don’t want to go away. It’s all so dreadful.”
“It’s devilish. Such a beautiful girl! Laura, I must leave you for a moment. Do you mind?”
“No, no; yet—”
I did mind; but he was gone before I could take back my word. Alone, I felt the tragedy much more than when he was with me. Instead of watching, as I had hitherto done, every movement in the room opposite, I drew back against the wall and hid my eyes, waiting feverishly for George’s return.
He came, when he did come, in some haste and with certain marks of increased agitation.
“Laura,” said he, “Slater says that we may possibly be wanted and proposes that we stay here all night. I have telephoned Adela and have made it all right at home. Will you come to your room? This is no place for you.”
Nothing could have pleased me better; to be near and yet not the direct observer of proceedings in which we took so secret an interest! I showed my gratitude by following George immediately. But I could not go without casting another
Prev.
Back
Top