"Sylvia," he ventured very boldly, and there
checked, so terrified as to be a shame to his brave scarlet,
gold-laced uniform.
"Yes?" she said. She was leaning upon the balcony again, and in
such a way now that he could no longer see her profile. But her
fingers were busy at the pearls once more, and this he saw, and
seeing, recovered himself.
"You have something to say to me?" he questioned in his smooth,
level voice.
Had he not looked away as he spoke he might have observed that her
fingers tightened their grip of the pearls almost convulsively, as
if to break the rope. It was a gesture slight and trivial, yet
arguing perhaps vexation. But Tremayne did not see it, and had he
seen it, it is odds it would have conveyed no message to him.
There fell a long pause, which he did not venture to break. At
last she spoke, her voice quiet and level as his own had been.
"It is about Una."
"I had hoped," he spoke very softly, "that it was about yourself."
She flashed round upon him almost angrily. "Why do you utter these
set speeches to me?" she demanded. And then before he could
recover from his astonishment to make any answer she had resumed a
normal manner, and was talking quickly.
Pages:
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132