“Yes, sorr,” said Gladwin, dully, feeling that there was no way out of the situation for the moment save to obey. Strive as he might he could not wholly shake off the influence of this splendid big animal’s dominating will power.
And if it affected him that way he didn’t wonder at the spell the man had cast upon the impressionable and sentimental Helen.
He left the room with a sudden spurt and swiftly mounted the stairs, the chief object of his haste being to prevent an extended interview in his absence and a resumption of tender dialogue.
He had scarcely gone when the spurious Gladwin turned again to the girl with his most engaging smile and softest tones:
“You see, dear,” with a sweeping gesture that included his work of spoilation, “I am taking your advice––packing only the most valuable ones.”
“I am afraid, Travers,” said Helen, rising from her chair and coming toward him with all her impulsive love and confidence restored, “that I am giving you a lot of trouble.”
“Trouble!” he cried, with the gushing effusiveness of a matinée idol. “You’re bringing a great joy into my life.”
He took her hand and caressed it, adding with the true lover’s frown of perplexity, “But are you going to be happy, dear? That’s what you must think of now––before it is too late.”
It was a magnificent bluff and carried with deadly aim. The girl stopped him passionately: