"Now, by God! Now!"
"No! No!" In terror Eva gave a suppressed cry and turned to escape the arms of the man she had maddened. With his hot lips brushing her own she turned away her face in impotent writhing, and saw her husband standing in the doorway.
"Pardon me," apologized Latimer, courteously, as though in a trance. He stepped forward, closed the door and took off his coat and hat. He sat down absently, as if he had returned after only a few hours' absence. He took no notice of the presence of Senator Blair nor of his hasty exit. The scene he had interrupted seemed to have no meaning for him. He could not have told how he reached home, and his one thought was of Danvers—his supposed Judas—and of the wife who had lived a lie even while bearing his children.
But Eva could not know this, and strove hurriedly to form some excuse for her predicament.
Latimer made no response to her explanations. Instead he said, quite gently: "I'll go and see if little Arthur is asleep. I want to kiss him good-night," and disappeared through the portieres.
Eva stood motionless, voiceless, in chill terror at her husband's solicitude for the dead child! Had he forgotten—or was he going mad? What had happened? What was to happen?
When Latimer returned, his eyes had lost their dazed expression. "My name is a reproach—it is handed around by coarse gossips!" he said, hoarsely. His look went beyond accusation.
Eva suddenly sank to her knees in mortal fear. The tones were not loud, but she never could have believed that those mild, blue eyes would flash at her such a menace of death.
"Arthur!" she wailed; "what have you heard? Why have you come home like this? I have not been untrue? Who said so? I have not! I have lied to you sometimes about little things—but not now!"
The silence was terrible! She began again, miserably: "I've been helping Mr. Burroughs; but surely that's not—it was for your advancement—Arthur!—speak to me!" She broke into gasping sobs.