"They shouldn't have brought you here to-night then. How could you possibly doubt of my coming?"
"I don't know what I thought, and I didn't know, till I saw you, that all the strength I had hoped for would leave me in a flash, and that if I attempted to speak—with you sitting there—I should make the most shameful failure. We had a sickening scene here—I begged for delay, for time to recover. We waited and waited, and when I heard you at the door talking to the policeman, it seemed to me everything was gone. But it will still come back, if you will leave me. They are quiet again—father must be interesting them."
"I hope he is!" Ransom exclaimed. "If Miss Chancellor ordered the policeman, she must have expected me."
"That was only after she knew you were in the house. She flew out into the lobby with father, and they seized him and posted him there. She locked the door; she seemed to think they would break it down. I didn't wait for that, but from the moment I knew you were on the other side of it I couldn't go on—I was paralysed. It has made me feel better to talk to you—and now I could appear," Verena added.
"My darling child, haven't you a shawl or a mantle?" Ransom returned, for all answer, looking about him. He perceived, tossed upon a chair, a long, furred cloak, which he caught up and, before she could resist, threw over her. She even let him arrange it, and, standing there, draped from head to foot in it, contented herself with saying, after a moment:
"I don't understand—where shall we go? Where will you take me?"
"We shall catch the night-train for New York, and the first thing in the morning we shall be married."
Verena remained gazing at him, with swimming eyes. "And what will the people do? Listen, listen!"
"Your father is ceasing to interest them. They'll howl and thump, according to their nature."
"Ah, their nature's fine!" Verena pleaded.