Now the Morris house was curiously constructed. The main stairway and a stairway leading to a side entrance converged at the second landing, thus making it possible for any one to leave the house more privately, should he so desire, than by the more formal way.
After leaving Northrup in the reception-room, the maid was stopped by Miss Anna Morris somewhere in the hall. A hurried whispered conversation ensued and made possible what dramatically followed.
A door above opened––the library door––and it seemed to set free Kathryn’s nervous, metallic laugh and Sandy Arnold’s hard, indignant words:
“What’s the hurry? I guess I understand.” Almost it seemed as if the girl were pushing the man before her. “I was good enough to pass the time with; pay for your fun while you weighed the chances.”
“Please, Sandy, you are cruel.” Kathryn was pleading.
“Cruel be damned! And what are you? I want you––you’ve told me that you loved me––what’s the big idea?”
“Oh! Sandy, do lower your voice. Aunt Anna will think the servants are quarrelling.”
“All right.” Sandy’s voice sank a degree. “But I’m going to put this to you square–––” The two above had come to the dividing stairways.
“What in thunder!” Sandy gave a coarse laugh. “Keeping to the servant notion, eh? Want me to go out the side door? Why?”
“Oh! Sandy, you won’t mind?––I have a reason, I’ll tell you some day.”