“Hide me, quick! That room,” cried the Contessa; and she took a step toward it as she veiled her face. “No,” she cried, turning proudly, and resisting an inclination to step behind the great canvas close to which she stood, “Let him see me. His faithlessness has divorced us, and given me to the man I love. You will protect me. Kill him if you wish. I am not afraid.”
This in a hasty whisper as the steps came nearer, and Valentina’s eyes glistened through her veil as she saw the artist draw himself up, and take a step forward to meet the intruder.
“Better that it should be so at once,” she whispered. “Let him come.”
The door was thrown quickly open as she spoke.
Chapter Ten.
There is Only One Way.
Armstrong’s teeth and hands were clenched for the encounter with the angry husband who had tracked his wife to the studio, and he was ready to accept his fate, for he told himself that he could fight no more against his destiny. The woman had told him that he would defend her, and he must—he would.
There was no feeling of dread, then, in his breast as he advanced to the encounter, but only to stop speechless with amazement as Pacey entered in his abrupt, noisy manner, to grasp his hand and clap him on the shoulder.