"This country was all fresh and beautiful once," he said; "and
now--it is Gehenna. Down that way--nothing but pot-banks and
chimneys belching fire and dust into the face of heaven . . . . .
But what does it matter? An end comes, an end to all this cruelty
. . . . . TO-MORROW." He spoke the last word in a whisper.
"TO-MORROW," she said, speaking in a whisper too, and
still staring out of the window.
"Dear!" he said, putting his hand on hers.
She turned with a start, and their eyes searched one
another's. Hers softened to his gaze. "My dear one!" she said,
and then: "It seems so strange --that you should have come into my
life like this--to open--" She paused.
"To open?" he said.
"All this wonderful world--" she hesitated, and spoke still
more softly--"this world of LOVE to me."
Then suddenly the door clicked and closed. They turned their
heads, and he started violently back. In the shadow of the room
stood a great shadowy figure--silent. They saw the face dimly in
the half-light, with unexpressive dark patches under the penthouse
brows. Every muscle in Raut's body suddenly became tense. When
could the door have opened? What had he heard? Had he heard all?
What had he seen? A tumult of questions.
The new-comer's voice came at last, after a pause that seemed
interminable. "Well?" he said.
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