The thought allured him, and therein lay the danger. "My schemes have succeeded tolerably well hitherto. Funk! I’ll see it out. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. She ought to have leapt back on guard. Not that it would make any difference if he was alive still. Without betraying the slightest confusion, or making a single remark, he quietly resumed his seat. You intrigue me. Hang the wench! Roding was right. “Mr. The theme was a masquerade.
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