As if in answer to his fear, she crossed the room.
"Ask her to take her hands down. I want to see her face."
Maurice bent over Ephie, and touched her shoulder.
"Ephie, dear, do you hear? Look up, like a good girl, and speak to Miss Dufrayer."
But Ephie shook off his hand.
Over her bowed head, their eyes met; and the look Louise gave the young man was cold and questioning. He shrugged his shoulders: he could do nothing; and retreating behind the writing-table, he left the two girls to themselves.
"Stand up, please," said Louise in an unfriendly voice; and as Ephie did not obey, she made a movement to take her by the wrists.
"No, no!—don't touch me," cried Ephie, and rose in spite of herself. "What right have you to speak to me like this?"
She could say no more, for, with a quick, unforeseen movement, Louise took the young girl's face in both hands, and turned it up. And after her first instinctive effort to draw back, Ephie kept still, like a fascinated rabbit, her eyes fixed on the dark face that looked down at her.
Seconds passed into minutes; and the minutes seemed hours. Maurice watched, on the alert to intervene, if necessary.