“Well,” he said, in a shame-faced manner, “I admit that there’s something so distasteful to me in seeing men win money under their own roof, that I said what I had no right to say.”
“I’m glad you admit so much,” said Rachel with dignity. “It is not a very nice suggestion to make that my friends, the people in whose house I am staying, are other than honorable.”
Remembering what he was forced to suspect concerning her, Gerard could not help casting at her a quick glance, at which she blushed again.
She knew very well that he suspected her of complicity in other risky adventures, and she had no right to challenge him.
“Well,” said he, “I suppose I ought to apologize, but I confess that if I am forced to play cards here, and one feels awkward at refusing always, when one is asked, I shall feel very despondent at having to pit myself against such a lot of good players.”
A change came over Rachel’s face. For a moment she sat silent, but then she rose from her chair, and with a glance which invited him to follow her, sauntered away to a flower-border, where she stopped, as if to admire the mass of gorgeous blossom in front of her.
He looked at her, as she stood, a beautiful and even queenly figure, in her glittering black dress against the green of the foliage and the rich coloring of the flowers; and if she had turned at that moment she would almost have been able to read in Gerard’s face the feeling at his heart, the passionate wistful longing to know the truth, the whole truth about her, to learn, for good or ill, the secret which he knew was gnawing at her heart, to be able to tell, once for all, whether the woman who attracted him in spite of his knowledge, in spite of his judgment, was worthy or unworthy of an honest man’s love.
CHAPTER XIV
He was quite near to her before she spoke, and then she did so without looking up. In an off-hand tone, she said—
“I shouldn’t have expected you to play cards, after what you’ve said.”