It was
cold, frosty; Gyp hurried down the path. Four little icicles had formed
beneath the window of the music-room. They caught her eye, and, passing
round to the side, she broke one off. There must be a fire in there,
for she could see the flicker through the curtains not quite drawn.
Thoughtful Ellen had been airing it! But, suddenly, she stood still.
There was more than a fire in there! Through the chink in the drawn
curtains she had seen two figures seated on the divan. Something seemed
to spin round in her head. She turned to rush away. Then a kind of
superhuman coolness came to her, and she deliberately looked in. He and
Daphne Wing! His arm was round her neck. The girl's face riveted her
eyes. It was turned a little back and up, gazing at him, the lips
parted, the eyes hypnotized, adoring; and her arm round him seemed to
shiver--with cold, with ecstasy?
Again that something went spinning through Gyp's head. She raised her
hand. For a second it hovered close to the glass. Then, with a sick
feeling, she dropped it and turned away.
Never! Never would she show him or that girl that they could hurt her!
Never! They were safe from any scene she would make--safe in their
nest! And blindly, across the frosty grass, through the unlighted
drawing-room, she went upstairs to her room, locked the door, and
sat down before the fire. Pride raged within her.
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