Clara knew who it was and she sprang from her chair with more eagerness and animation than she had manifested at any time since the disastrous wedding day. She fairly ran into the drawing-room, both her hands extended, her face radiant with smiles, and completely overwhelmed poor Litizki with the warmth of her greeting.
"I was so afraid something dreadful had happened to you!" she exclaimed, "but I knew that you had not deserted me."
"Deserted you?" said Litizki huskily; "no, but I was afraid you would think so. I didn't know what Poubalov might have told you, and unless you thoroughly understand that man, that fiend, Miss Hilman, he is likely to make you believe anything."
"Then you know that he had been here! You must have recognized his hat in the hall."
"I saw it there and his stick, too, but I knew before then that he had been here. I came to tell you."
Litizki paused, the look of grateful relief that had overspread his features at first giving way to his customary depressed expression, and he fell into his habit of speaking with averted eyes, or with but occasional furtive glances at the person addressed.
"Do tell me," said Clara; "I have been very anxious about you."
Litizki thought a moment, and then asked:
"May I see Poubalov's cane?"