I saw her heart beating painfully beneath the laces on her bosom,
and pain stamped on all her face. Then she said abruptly,--
"Have you Howard with you still?"
"No. He left Paris last night," I answered.
Her eyes met mine full across the sunlight. We looked at each other
in silence.
She asked nothing farther.
I believe she comprehended the whole case as it stood, because she
would know that had I lost or injured the MSS. myself I should have
no reason for concealing it. As a matter of honourable feeling I
wanted to keep the fact from her, but I could not help her guessing
it. Curiously enough her next question, after a long pause--though I
did not see that in her mind there could have been connection
between the subjects--was:
"Where is Nous?"
"Nous is dead."
"How did he die?"
"That, also, I would rather not say."
At that, in addition to a sharper look of distress, a puzzled
surprise came into her face. She raised her delicate eyebrows and
looked at me with a perplexed, half-frightened expression.
"Victor," she said, leaning forward a little in her chair, "was it
he that tore up the manuscript? and did you kill him in a fit of
rage?"
I looked back at her, also with surprise, that she could suggest
such a thing of me as possible.
"Oh, no!" I said hastily; "nothing at all of the sort.
Pages:
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160