Scarcely a word passed between the woman whom I had learned to know as Adelaide Fortress and myself. I touched her fingers, and they were as cold as ice. Then, with a single look at her dark eyes, I left the room.
Bruce Deville followed me out. The girl too had sprung up, and was making her hasty adieux. Before she could leave the room, however, Bruce Deville had reached my side.
“I am coming home with you, Miss Ffolliot,” he said, in my ear.
I did not answer him. We were half-way down the path when Miss Berdenstein’s shrill voice reached us.
“Mr. Deville!”
He paused. Involuntarily I stopped too.
“You will take me home, Mr. Deville, won’t you?” she said. “I couldn’t possibly find the way by myself; and, besides, I should be terrified to death. It is so dark. I should not have dreamed of staying so late if I had been alone.”
He muttered something profane under his breath. I started to walk on.
“Won’t you be here when I come back,” he inquired, brusquely. “I was only going a few steps with Miss Ffolliot.”
“I am quite ready to start now,” she answered; “and I have said goodbye to Mrs. Fortress. I really don’t see how I can stay any longer; and I dare not go a step alone. It is almost pitch dark. Shall I walk home with Miss Ffolliot and you first?”