At last!
Marie heard the dining-room door open, and the sound of ascending voices. Lord Henry would be there directly, and she would ask him to take her back.
That was Marcus Glen’s voice speaking loudly, and every fibre of her body seemed to thrill as she listened to its tones.
Marie’s back was to the door as he entered, and she could not see him; but she seemed to feel his approach, and all was a dream once more, as he seated himself on the ottoman by her, and began to talk about some current topic.
She answered him, took the opposite side, talking freely and well, and Lord Henry chided himself for his uneasy feeling, and felt that he ought to be proud of such a wife. She was devoted to him, and he trusted her with all his heart.
The conversation was very animated for the time that Glen stood by her; but all the while Marie’s pulses kept up that quick, feverish throb, and there was the hidden sense of danger still within her heart.
May had come round again, the Academy pictures were once more drawing their crowds, and directly after an early breakfast one morning Marie and Ruth walked up into Piccadilly to spend a couple of hours while the rooms were empty and cool.
How it happened Marie afterwards hardly realised, but she had become separated from her cousin, who had wandered on into the next room, leaving her gazing listlessly about, when suddenly her heart seemed to stand still, for close beside her there was a low sigh, and she felt more than saw that Glen was at her elbow.
Mastering her emotion, she turned quickly to reproach him for following her there, when she saw that he had his back to her, and was gazing intently at a portrait. She did not speak. It was a kind of gasp or catching of the breath; but he heard it, and turned sharply round to face her.