“Of course I am. I've just come back from a four months' cruise, and I am going to be married before I drag my anchor again.”
“Four months!” gasped Haw. “Why, it is just four months since I came here. And one last question, sir. Does Robert McIntyre know of your engagement?”
“Does Bob know? Of course he knows. Why, it was to his care I left Laura when I started. But what is the meaning of all this? What is the matter with you, Laura? Why are you so white and silent? And—hallo! Hold up, sir! The man is fainting!”
“It is all right!” gasped Haw, steadying himself against the edge of the door.
He was as white as paper, and his hand was pressed close to his side as though some sudden pain had shot through him. For a moment he tottered there like a stricken man, and then, with a hoarse cry, he turned and fled out through the open door.
“Poor devil!” said Hector, gazing in amazement after him. “He seems hard hit anyhow. But what is the meaning of all this, Laura?”
His face had darkened, and his mouth had set.
She had not said a word, but had stood with a face like a mask looking blankly in front of her. Now she tore herself away from him, and, casting herself down with her face buried in the cushion of the sofa, she burst into a passion of sobbing.
“It means that you have ruined me,” she cried. “That you have ruined-ruined—ruined me! Could you not leave us alone? Why must you come at the last moment? A few more days, and we were safe. And you never had my letter.”
“And what was in your letter, then?” he asked coldly, standing with his arms folded, looking down at her.