“It was unusually kind. I suppose, however, you will have to make your exit on his entrance.”
“No,” she laughed quietly; “I am going to play the role of the audience to-night. He expressly desires my presence; but if you differ—”
He looked at her curiously. The earnestness with which she had greeted him settled like a mask upon his face. The hand that held hers drew it quickly to his breast.
“I think it is well that you remain,” he said, “because we agree at any rate on the main point,—that we love each other. Always that, darling?”
“Always that—love.”
The low, sweet voice that for the first time so caressed him thrilled him oddly; but a measured step was heard in the hall, and Ruth moved like a bird to a chair. He could not know that the sound of the step had given her the momentary courage thus to address him.
He arose deferentially as Mr. Levice entered. The two men formed a striking contrast. Kemp stood tall, stalwart, straight as an arrow; Levice, with his short stature, his stooping shoulders, and his silvery hair falling about and softening somewhat his plain Jewish face, served as a foil to the other’s bright, handsome figure.
Kemp came forward to meet him and grasped his hand. Nothing is more thoroughly expressive than this shaking of hands between men. It is a freemasonry that women lack and are the losers thereby. The kiss is a sign of emotion; the hand-clasp bespeaks strong esteem or otherwise. Levice’s hand closed tightly about the doctor’s large one; there was a great feeling of mutual respect between these two.
“How are you and your wife?” asked the doctor, seating himself in a low, silken easy-chair as Levice took one opposite him.
“She is well, but tired this evening, and has gone to bed. She wished to be remembered to you.” As he spoke, he half turned his head to where Ruth sat in a corner, a little removed.