"If we'd been successful in getting Senator Wratchett," he explained, "Cooley never would have obtained a stay of proceedings. But Wratchett says he is not prepared."
"And until he is prepared I must stay here?" she cried, in consternation.
"The time will soon pass," he replied soothingly.
The girl walked nervously up and down the floor. Turning quickly on the lawyer, she exclaimed, with angry vehemence:
"Soon pass! Soon pass! Do you realize what it means to stay in this dreadful place another whole week? To meet only men and women who regard you with pity and curiosity—as—as hopelessly unfit to go into the outer world? Their very kindness and consideration is a mockery. Another week? Seven long days, seven endless nights? I can't sleep, I only get fitful snatches of oblivion during which my dreams are worse than the awakening. I've been here only three weeks and it seems like a lifetime—a lifetime. The companionship of that woman for another week!" Hysterically she cried: "I can't do it, Mr. Ricaby, I can't do it! You must take me away from here!"
The lawyer made no reply. Then, as if suddenly actuated by a determined resolution, he went up to the window overlooking the grounds and glanced out. Perhaps there might be a chance to get away. But when he noted the precipitous stone walls and the man on guard at the locked iron gates, he was convinced of the futility of any such attempt. It would only injure her cause. Shaking his head, he returned to where Paula stood.
"It isn't possible," he said, in an undertone. "That woman is behind the door. A man is over at the gate. No, that's not the way. If you go at all it must be through the front door, with head erect."
With a gesture of discouragement, Paula sank down on a chair.
"I can't stand it any longer," she cried, her face streaming with tears, "it's unbearable—simply unbearable! Did you ever try to count the time away? The first day I was here I determined not to think of my position. I counted the seconds. I counted one, two, three, four, five thousand—counted until I became exhausted. I thought I'd counted for hours, but I found that barely one little hour had passed—one little hour—and that the more I tried to forget my position the more intolerable it became."
Almost beside himself, not knowing what to suggest next, the lawyer strode nervously up and down the room. Each word she uttered was a stinging reproach and a knife thrust in his heart. Yet could he do more than he was doing? Stopping in front of her, he seized her burning hands and held them firmly in his own.