XIII. — RECKONING WITH DANVERS.
On that journey south Marian for the first time studied Danvers as a husband in prospect.
The morning after they left New York, their private car arrived at Savannah. At dark the night before they were rushing through a snow storm raging in a wintry landscape. Now they were looking out upon spring from the open windows. As soon as the train stopped, all except Marian and Danvers left the car to walk up and down the platform. Danvers, standing behind Marian, looked around to make sure that none of the servants was about, then rubbed his hand caressingly and familiarly upon her cheek.
“Did you miss me?” he asked.
Marian could not prevent her head from shrinking from his touch.
“There’s nobody about,” Danvers said, reassuringly. But he acted upon the hint and, taking his hand away, came around and sat beside her.
“Did you miss me?” he repeated, looking at her with an expression in his frank, manly blue eyes that made her flush at the thought of “treason” past and to come.
“Did you miss me?” she evaded.
“I would have returned long ago if I had not been ashamed,” he answered, smiling. “I never thought that I should come not to care for as good shooting as that. You almost cost me my life.”
“Yes?” Marian spoke absently. She was absorbed in her mental comparison of the two men.