He waited for her agreement. Her tongue seemed to be sticking to the roof of her dry mouth. She could only nod, speechlessly, and try to smile. Something seemed to be crying out in her: “Harry! Harry!” Another part of her consciousness prayed desperately for guidance. Should she—could she—ought she to speak—to break this pathetic little idyll he sketched for her?
She looked curiously at his clothes. They were cheap and ill-fitting—frayed at the trouser-ends. So different from the spruce Harry she had known!
As though something of her thought had communicated itself to him, he clapped his hand suddenly to his breast-pocket, fished out a wallet, glanced into it, put it back.
“Whew!” he breathed in deep relief. “I had a nasty turn—thought perhaps I had lost that in the row. It contains all I own in the world!” He smiled. “It’s all right, though!” He glanced around him appreciatively. “But it wouldn’t buy the things you’ve got in this room, all the same. I admire your taste, if you’ll pardon my saying so, madam. I’m glad my wife is coming round—I’ll show her the sort of drawing-room we’re going to have some day, when we’ve made good!”
His cheerful smile was heart-breaking. She felt as though she must jump up and run across to him, shrieking that it was his—all his! That he and she had bought it all together, every bit of it. And yet she could not stir—could only stare at him in a fascination that was dumb.
Satterthwaite sat apparently unmoved, but his jaw was set hard.
“Perhaps you’ll come in for a legacy some day,” he said, casually.
His wife glanced at him, reading his thought. Of course, Jack would not do anything mean, would compensate him somehow! She was suddenly very grateful to him. The idea of a future anonymous restitution lightened her conscience a little.
“It’s not likely!” said their visitor, indifferently. “We have neither of us any relatives—my wife and I. And I don’t care so long as I’ve got her. When we get some youngsters we shall be the happiest family going!” He smiled—and she thought of Dorothy, peacefully asleep in the other room. She shut out the picture with an effort.
The door-bell rang, and, with an enormous relief, she sprang up to answer it. Anything to put an end to this torture! For one moment, in the hall, she hesitated.