A sound louder than his dream barks, then a movement more definite than the twitching of the four feet co-ordinating with the speed at which he imagined himself running, awakened her. Against the slivers of light which outlined the door-frame, she saw that the puppy was standing at attention—hind legs thrust well back, bristles stiff, nose close to the sill. She sat up and shook herself wider awake. Someone had entered the sitting-room and made a light.
She would better announce her presence inside than have the dog bark the announcement for her. With the idea of returning to her own chamber, she gathered her dressing-gown close around her and opened the door.
There she stood absolutely still. Everything seemed to halt with her feet—the beat of her heart, all capability to move or speak, even any sense of surprise.
Powerless as she felt looked John Cabot.
He was sitting in Jack’s arm-chair, beside the lamp; was looking at her. The parts of Jack’s broken, pace-setting toy were spread out on the table. In both hands he clutched the torn magazine in which the boy had drawn a circle around the dog of his choice. He was pale and gaunt.
From the look of him, he must have imagined her a vision. And she made no move to undeceive him. He was convinced of the reality of the moment by the puppy. Holding aside the frisking beast, he straightened and forced himself to speak.
“You mustn’t stay here, Dolores.”
His words, his frown, his harsh tone—all stabbed into the wound of her solitariness as she had not been stabbed when alone. She could not manage an answer, except to cross to the hall door. Then, just as her hand turned the knob——
“For God’s sake, don’t leave me—don’t go!” At her distressed hesitation, he added a jumble of words. “There is something I’ve been wanting to say to you—to offer—about your future. Forgive me if I seem abrupt or rude. I feel the strain of—of recent events. It might help to talk with someone who understands. Won’t you stay—a little while?”
Dolores felt more hurt than when he had spoken first, but hurt for him. Knowing the steel control of the man, she wondered at his mood. She returned into the room and stood before him, one thought clear in her mind. So this, then, was what she had been awaiting all along—this need for companionship of John Cabot?