" She stopped her tongue, but not her thought. That thronged the
gates of her lips. She hesitated, fighting the entry; but the words came,
shocked and dreadful. "He wants me, to ravage me--like a beast."
Chevenix began to stammer. "Oh, I say, you mustn't--Oh, don't talk like
that--"
The door opened, and Ingram came in.
He looked from one to the other, sharply. "Hulloa," he said. "What are you
two about in here?"
Sanchia looked at the fire, and put her foot close to it, to be warmed.
"Tea-party," said Chevenix. "That's it, Nevile." He nodded sagely at his
host, and saw his brow clear. Ingram shut the door and came into the room,
to a chair. "That's all right," he said. "I hope it was a livelier one
than mine. That old Devereux was on her high-stepper. I'm sick of being
trampled. I thought, though, that you had been having words. You looked
like it."
Sanchia said, smiling in her queer way, "Oh, dear no. Mr. Chevenix is much
too kind for that. He's been talking very nicely to me. He's been
charming."
"Oh, come, Sancie--" cried the brisk young man, quite recovered.
Ingram, in a stare, said, "Yes, Sancie, you may trust him. He's a friend
of ours."
"I do trust him," she said.
Pages:
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140