“Hugh spun round in his chair at Kate’s bland voice”
There was only one word; but the vigorous [p101] deliverance of it made Miss Bibby catch her breath and clasp her hands.
“I have startled you, madam,” said Hugh, facing the “limp lavender lady” as he had called her to Kate; “and I ought to apologize, I am aware, but I don’t. I would have apologized had I been betrayed to it in a drawing-room. But this is my work-room, where I see nobody.” The last four words were almost thundered.
Agnes Bibby was praying—actually praying for courage. Her throat was working, her grey eyes had their most startled look. She was twisting her hands nervously together.
Hugh was not in the least conscience-stricken at her evident lack of composure.
He seriously considered for one second the expediency of repeating the word, and adding a few others to it, and so scaring the lavender lady out of his room and out of his life for ever.
But then he noticed she was actually trembling, and though his savage impulses were still well to the fore, he dragged up a chair and said “Sit down.”
Miss Bibby sat down uncertainly, still gazing at him as if half expecting he might pounce on her and eat her at any second.
“And now what incredible thing was it I heard my sister say?” he asked.