It was
now, not to-morrow, that she was sending him definitely out of her life;
and he understood.
Never had Angela thought so quickly. She trembled as she stood staring at
the shut door. Her cheeks burned, and a pulse beat in her throat, under
the string of pearls. She clasped and unclasped her hands, and they were
very cold.
"He _shan't_ go to that woman, and take her out in my place in the Bright
Angel!" she said out aloud, and flew to the door.
"Mr. Hilliard!--Mr. Hilliard!" she called.
Everything seemed to depend--though this was nonsense!--on his not having
got to the elevator. She stood in the doorway, waiting to see what would
happen, her blood pounding as if she had taken a really important step;
which, of course, was not the case.
He had turned a corner of the corridor and was out of sight, but her voice
reached him, and he came back.
"Was there something you forgot to tell me?" he asked. Perhaps she was
going to say that after all she would not go out to-morrow.
"No, not that I forgot--something I _want_ to say. Come in again."
She whisked the tail of her black chiffon dress back into the room. He
followed her, wondering and silently anxious.
"I've changed my mind," she said in a low voice.
Pages:
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270