"Just because you are you, Miss Glynn, and because I'm the happiest man in New York, I want you to congratulate me. That was Miss Moffatt. She and I are to marry—in the spring."
"Did you—mention my name to her?"
Priscilla's haggard face at last attracted the man.
"No. I was inhumanly selfish. You must forgive me. I meant to tell her of your faithful care; I meant to have you meet her. I forgot."
"Never mention—me to her! She is my—one friend in all the world; my one woman friend."
They faced each other blankly, fiercely. Then:
"Good Lord, Miss Glynn!" and Huntter—laughed!
CHAPTER XXIII
The week of recuperation Doctor Hapgood recommended was one of prolonged torture to Priscilla Glenn. Thinking of it afterward, she realized that it was the Gethsemane of her life—the hour when, forsaken by all, she fought her bitter fight.