“Rather than marry you—I would face the electric chair.”
The scorn in her voice, even more than the scathing words themselves, enraged Trask.
“Oh,” he said, with ill-repressed fury, “you would, would you? Have your own way, then, Miss Mystery—and soon your mystery will be known and you may have your desire, and—face the electric chair!”
“Go,” she said, without glance or gesture.
And in a white heat of anger, Trask went.
“Now, dearie,” Mrs. Adams said, coming in, “I don’t want you to tell me anything. My husband bids me befriend you—and I will, so long as your case is uncertain. But if you’re proved to be guilty, I—”
“Oh, don’t fail me,” and Miss Mystery threw herself into the other’s arms. “I am so lonely and so friendless—”
Then Miss Mystery drew herself up, with a forlorn little attempt at dignity, and said, “I’d like to go to my room now, please.”
Upstairs she went, slowly, and as she neared her own room Lockwood met her in the hall.
“Count me your friend,” he said, simply, and held out his hand.
“I will,” she replied, putting her little hand in his, and then, with one deep glance, each knew of the other’s love.
Lockwood’s was written plain on his face, and his eyes, usually so calm and cold, were lighted with the intensity of his passion.
This Anita read, and her own response was quick and involuntary.
Perhaps it was a rebound from the awful proposals of Maurice Trask; perhaps it was a heart finding its mate—perhaps, remembering Miss Mystery’s ways, it was mere coquetry, but the glances were exchanged and they knew.
Anita went on to her room, and throwing herself into a chair, sat long in thought.
“What shall I do?” she asked herself over and over again. “What can I do? If only I hadn’t taken the money—and the pin. Why did I do it? And he said Truesdell! How did he know? My eyebrows, I suppose. That awful man! And he’ll tell—oh, yes, he’ll surely tell—and that will poison Gordon’s mind against me—oh, was anybody ever in such trouble as I?”
A tap at her door announced the maid with a note.
Alone again, Anita read it. It was from Lockwood and begged an interview.
“Please let me see you alone,” it said; “I don’t know how best to manage it. Will you go for a walk with me now? There’s time for a short stroll before dark.”