"I--I should not have let
her go like this."
Even as she reproached herself, a light broke in upon her
understanding; a thought whirled into her brain and a moment later a
shrill, angry, hysterical laugh came from her lips.
"She knew where she could go! How simple I am. Shaw will welcome her
gladly. She's with him by this time--his doors have opened to her. The
little wretch! And I've been trying so hard to pity her!" She laughed
again so shrilly that his lordship stirred and then looked up at her
stupefied, uncertain.
"Hullo," he grunted. "What time is it?"
"Oh, you're awake, are you?" scornfully.
"Certainly. Have I been dozing? What's there to laugh at, my dear?" he
mumbled, arising very unsteadily. "Where's Pen?"
"She's gone. She's left the house," she said, recurring dread and
anxiety in her voice. A glance at the darkness outside brought back
the growing shudders.
"What--what d'ye mean?" demanded he, bracing up with a splendid
effort.
"She's left the house, that's all. We quarrelled. I don't know where
she's gone. Yes, I do know. She's gone to Shaw's for the night. She's
with him. I saw her going," she cried, striving between fear and
anger.
"You've--you've turned her out?" gasped Lord Bazelhurst, numbly. "In
the night? Good Lord, why--why did you let her go?" He turned and
rushed toward the door, tears springing to his eyes. He was sobering
now and the tears were wrenched from his hurt pride. "How long ago?"
"An hour or more.
Pages:
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376