Then, quick as lightning, followed thought after thought as to the peril to which, through his and Edie’s scheming, Myra might be exposed; and he saw himself afterward face to face with father and aunt, bearing the brunt of their reproaches for what now began to seem a wild escapade.
He was brought back to himself in the midst of the semi-darkness by a low, catching sigh, and he turned sharply round to see behind him, as in another frame, the outlined figure of Edie. He took a step toward her quickly, but she drew back right to the great balustrade of the landing, and supported herself against it.
“Edie,” he whispered, trying to take her hand; but she repulsed him, and turned her back to look down the opening to the hall.
“Edie,” he said again quickly; and this time he caught her hand.
“Don’t touch me!” she said in a low, passionate whisper.
“Nonsense, dear! There is no danger, I think. We must not stay here listening: it would be so unfair. Come and stand in Mr Brettison’s passage. You will be out of the draught and cold.”
“Don’t touch me, I say,” she whispered angrily; and she drew her hand from his grasp with a sharp snatch.
“Don’t be foolish,” he said excitedly. “Come along here.”
“No—no—no.”
“But, Edie, dear!”