Would he get up and strangle her? Should
she dash to the door--escape? For a long, miserable moment, she watched
him swaying on the window-seat, with his face covered. Then, without
looking at her, he crammed a clenched hand up against his mouth, and
rushed out.
Through the open door, Gyp had a glimpse of Markey's motionless figure,
coming to life as Fiorsen passed. She drew a long breath, locked the
door, and lay down on her bed. Her heart beat dreadfully. For a moment,
something had checked his jealous rage. But if on this shock he began
to drink, what might not happen? He had said something wild. And she
shuddered. But what right had he to feel jealousy and rage against her?
What right? She got up and went to the glass, trembling, mechanically
tidying her hair. Miraculous that she had come through unscathed!
Her thoughts flew to Summerhay. They were to meet at three o'clock by
the seat in St. James's Park. But all was different, now; difficult and
dangerous! She must wait, take counsel with her father. And yet if she
did not keep that tryst, how anxious he would be--thinking that
all sorts of things had happened to her; thinking perhaps--oh,
foolish!--that she had forgotten, or even repented of her love. What
would she herself think, if he were to fail her at their first tryst
after those days of bliss? Certainly that he had changed his mind, seen
she was not worth it, seen that a woman who could give herself so soon,
so easily, was one to whom he could not sacrifice his life.
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