Miss Riordan turned back and began to saunter up and down the ferry house. She wore an annoyed expression. She was a cruel lady, frowning upon the tardiness of her cavalier, who was doubtless rushing to her from somewhere, breathless and humbly apologetic.
“I am here,” she said in effect, “and I may as well wait, but it shall never happen again—never!”
Two boats gone! That meant forty minutes.
“Well, of course, I came too early,” she reflected. “That makes it seem longer; but I just won’t wait after the next one.”
She knew she would, though. He knew it, too—knew he would find her there. He would come when it suited him, and there she would be, waiting for him.
“He makes me sick!” she said to herself, with a sudden rush of tears. “Who does he think he is, anyway? I bet, if everything was known—”
But she hoped the time would never come when everything was known, even if it should effect the well deserved humiliation of Mr. Louis Pirini.
On the Day of Judgment there would be an angel with an immense book. He would ask you questions, and write down your answers in letters of fire; but he would know the right answers beforehand, or have them on file somewhere, so you’d have to be careful what you said. It was a comfort to think, though, that if that time came, you would be purely a soul, without bodily contours, and certainly without age. Miss Riordan was not very clear in mind about her sins, but she knew well enough which were the things that filled her with the greatest shame and guilt—her age and her physical luxuriance.
“Well, anyhow, I don’t look it!” she said forlornly to herself. “He don’t really know. He just tries to tease me—but I don’t care!”
The energy she was obliged to expend in not caring for the humorous remarks of Mr. Louis Pirini was, however, a considerable drain upon her nervous system. Usually she was able to laugh when he did; but sometimes he was too mean, and then she cried—a weakness she dreaded beyond measure. Always, whether she laughed or cried, when he was with her and when he was absent, she was filled with a passionate resentment against him.