“I can carry it on,” she said.
She was wonderfully self-possessed, thought T. X., but then T. X. never thought anything of her but that she was “wonderfully” something or the other.
“Most of your story is true, Mr. Lexman,” said this astonishing girl, oblivious of the amazed eyes that were staring at her, “but Kara deceived you in one respect.”
“What do you mean?” asked John Lexman, rising unsteadily to his feet.
For answer she rose and walked back to the door with the chintz curtains and flung it open: There was a wait which seemed an eternity, and then through the doorway came a girl, slim and grave and beautiful.
“My God!” whispered T. X. “Grace Lexman!”
CHAPTER XXIII
They went out and left them alone, two people who found in this moment a heaven which is not beyond the reach of humanity, but which is seldom attained to. Belinda Mary had an eager audience all to her very self.
“Of course she didn't die,” she said scornfully. “Kara was playing on his fears all the time. He never even harmed her—in the way Mr. Lexman feared. He told Mrs. Lexman that her husband was dead just as he told John Lexman his wife was gone. What happened was that he brought her back to England—”