Again the knock! This time softer but more insinuating.
Then all was quiet, but the mad music was filling the warm room.
Just then the visitor at the door stepped around the house and came in full view of the window before which Tom sat, rigid and defiant. It was Norval, and he paused, came nearer and stood still. Tom got up, and the movement attracted Donelle's attention. She turned and saw the two men glaring at each other, the glass between.
"Curse him!" muttered Tom, "curse him!"
Norval vanished instantly, but not before Donelle had caught the expression in his eyes.
"Tom," she said affrightedly, "what did he think?"
"What does it matter what he thought?"
"But, Tom, tell me, what did he think to make him look like that? Perhaps, perhaps he thinks I should not be here, alone with you."
"Damn him. What right has he to stare into my place?"
"But, Tom, his eyes, I cannot bear to think of the look in his eyes. It—it was laughing, but it hurt."