Again that great fear of him possessed Gail. She feared many things. She feared that, in spite of her determination, he would still have her, and in that possibility alone lay all the other fears, fears so gruesome that she did not dare see them clearly! She knew that she must retain absolute control of herself.
“I shall not discuss the matter any further,” she quietly said, and walking straight towards the door, passed by him, quite within the reach of his arm, without either looking at him or away from him. Something within his own strength respected hers, in spite of him. “I have said all that I have to say.”
“So have I,” he replied, coming closer to her as she stood in the doorway, and he gazed down at her with eyes in which there was insolent determination, and cruelty. “I have said that I mean to have you, and I will.”
Without a word, she went into the hall. He followed her, and took his hat.
“Good evening,” she replied, and he went out of the door.
When he had gone, she flew up to her rooms, her first coherent thought being that she had accomplished it! She had seen Allison, and had given him her definite answer, and had gotten him out of the house while the others were back in the billiard room. She had held up splendidly, but she was weak now, and quivering in every limb, and she sank on her divan, supported on one outstretched arm; and in this uncomfortable position, she took up the eternal question of Gail. The angry tears of mortification sprang into her eyes!
A half hour later her Aunt Grace came up, and found her in the same position.
“Mrs. Boyd and Doctor Boyd are downstairs, dear,” she announced.
Gail straightened up with difficulty. Her arm was numb.
“Please make my excuses, Aunty,” she begged.
“What’s the matter?” asked Aunt Grace, the creases jumping into her brow as if they lay somewhere in the roots of her hair, ready to spring down at an instant’s notice. “Aren’t you feeling well? Shall I get you something?”
“No, thank you,” smiled Gail wanly. “I’m just a little fatigued.”
“Then don’t you come a step,” and Aunt Grace beamed down on her niece with infinite tenderness. She had an intuition, these days, that the girl was troubled; and her sympathies were ready for instant production. “You’ll have to tell me what to say, though. I’m so clumsy at it.”