She stared, aghast with the perception that there was some dreadful
thing she didn't know; but he walked on, dropping the question
angrily and turning his back to her as if he couldn't trust himself.
She read his disgust in his averted, face, in the way he squared his
shoulders and smote the ground with his stick, and she hurried after
him and presently overtook him. She kept by him for a moment in
silence; then she broke out: "What do you mean? What in the world
have I done to you?"
"She would have helped me. She was all ready to help me," Godfrey
portentously said.
"Helped you in what?" She wondered what he meant; if he had made
debts that he was afraid to confess to his father and--of all
horrible things--had been looking to Mrs. Churchley to pay. She
turned red with the mere apprehension of this and, on the heels of
her guess, exulted again at having perhaps averted such a shame.
"Can't you just see I'm in trouble? Where are your eyes, your
senses, your sympathy, that you talk so much about? Haven't you seen
these six months that I've a curst worry in my life?"
She seized his arm, made him stop, stood looking up at him like a
frightened little girl. "What's the matter, Godfrey?--what IS the
matter?"
"You've gone against me so--I could strangle you!" he growled. This
image added nothing to her dread; her dread was that he had done some
wrong, was stained with some guilt. She uttered it to him with
clasped hands, begging him to tell her the worst; but, still more
passionately, he cut her short with his own cry: "In God's name,
satisfy me! What infernal thing did you do?"
"It wasn't infernal--it was right.
Pages:
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50