Miss Gregg and Chase came out into the hall as she was still speaking—as she was still looking appealingly up into the hurt face of the man she had affronted so grievously.
“Come, dear!” hailed the old lady. “It’s almost as late as it ever gets to be. Let’s go to bed.”
“Good night,” said Thaxton, stiffly, ignoring Doris’s eyes and setting off on his round of the windows.
Doris lagged a step after her aunt. Willis Chase made as though to speak lightly to her. Then he caught the look on her remorseful face, glanced quickly toward the back of the departing Vail, and, with a hasty good night to her, made his way upstairs. On the landing he turned and called back to Thaxton:
“If I can’t live through the horrors of the magenta room to-night, Thax, I hope they send you to the hoosgow, as contributory cause. Me, I wouldn’t even coop up Oz Creede in a room like that.”
Vail made no reply. Stolidly he continued to lock window after window, Macduff pacing along behind him with an air of much importance. Doris Lane took an impulsive step to follow him. But Chase was still leaning over the banisters, above, chanting his plaint about the magenta room. So she sighed and went up to bed.
Less than five minutes later, when Thaxton returned to the hallway, his guests had all retired. There was an odd air of desolation and gloom about the usually homelike hall. Vail stood there a moment, musing. Then, subconsciously, he noted that the lowboy drawer still stood open. In absentminded fashion he went over to close it.
He paused for a moment or so, with his hand on the open drawer.
“Mac,” he muttered, his other hand on the collie’s head, “she didn’t mean that. She didn’t mean it, Mac. And I’m a fool to let it get past my guard and sting so deep. She was worn out and nervous. We won’t let it hurt us, will we, Mac? Still I wish she’d taken the gun. So far as I know it’s the only real weapon of any kind in the house. And if there’s danger, I wish she had it beside her. I—I wonder if I should carry it upstairs and knock at the door. Perhaps I could coax Miss Gregg to take it, Mac. What do you think?”
Putting his disjointed words into action, Vail fumbled in the drawer for the pistol.