“He deceived you then and he’ll endeavor to poison your mind right along. You’re too trustful. Now, I was angry at first, but if there was anything in this meeting to-night that was out of the way, it was his doing, I know. If he got familiar with you, as Burkhardt hinted–––”
“Well?”
“I’ll kill the dog with my own hands!”
“You may rest easy. His conduct was irreproachable, Mr. Burkhardt to the contrary.”
Sorenson regarded her in perplexity, divided between anger and doubts. Too, a new feeling unaccountably sprang into his breast––jealousy. In the end apprehension all at once filled his mind, darkening his face and bringing down his brows.
Uneasy as at first he had been after the row in the restaurant, he had eventually dismissed the matter from his mind, for no rumor of it had reached San Mateo. Neither Weir nor Johnson, the girl’s father, had blabbed of it, so his alarm passed; they didn’t want to talk of it for the girl’s sake, any more than he wished it known, was his grinning conclusion. The deuce would have been to pay if Janet had got wind of the business. But now his fears came winging back a hundred-fold as he stared at her.
“What did he say to you?” he asked, in a tense voice.
“Not that tone with me, if you please.”
Sorenson, however, was past observation of her mood or temper.