“Juliette!” he cried again, more firmly.
The word was scarcely out of his mouth when the door opened wide, and Juliette stood before him. They gazed at each other for a fraction of a second, as if inimically.
“Why don’t you come in, Carlos?” she murmured softly, and her eyes fell, “instead of knocking and making such a noise. What’s the matter?”
Carpentaria was certainly astonished at the nature and tone of her remark. She seemed to wish to run away. Then he gathered himself together, with an immense show of force, as a man will when confronted by a woman who is helpless before him, but of whom he is afraid.
“I don’t want to come in,” he said.
“Why?” she demanded.
“You know why,” he said.
“Indeed I don’t,” she asserted; and she laughed—a curt laugh.
“You promised me you wouldn’t see Ilam again at present,” said Carpentaria stoutly.
Juliette tossed ever so little her charming head, with its admirable coiffure.