“Oh, he gives me time!” Clement Yule spoke very much as he might have said, “Oh, in two minutes!”
“I wouldn’t give you time,” Mrs. Gracedew cried with force—“I’d give you a shaking! For God’s sake, at any rate”—and she really tried to push him off—“go upstairs!”
“And literally find the dreadful man?” This was so little his personal idea that, distinctly dodging her pressure, he had already reached the safe quarter.
But it befell that at the same moment she saw Cora reappear on the upper landing—a circumstance that promised her a still better conclusion. “He’s coming down!”
Cora, in spite of this announcement, came down boldly enough without him and made directly for Mrs. Gracedew, to whom her eyes had attached themselves with an undeviating glare. Her plain purpose of treating this lady as an isolated presence allowed their companion perfect freedom to consider her arrival with sharp alarm. His disconcerted stare seemed for a moment to balance; it wandered, gave a wild glance at the open door, then searched the ascent of the staircase, in which, apparently, it now found a coercion. “I’ll go up!” he gasped; and he took three steps at a time.
V
The girl threw herself, in her flushed eagerness, straight upon the wonderful lady. “I’ve come back to you—I want to speak to you!” The need had been a rapid growth, but it was clearly immense. “May I confide in you?”
Her instant overflow left Mrs. Gracedew both astonished and amused. “You too?” she laughed. “Why it is good we come over!”
“It is, indeed!” Cora gratefully echoed. “You were so very kind to me and seemed to think me so curious.”
The mirth of her friend redoubled. “Well, I loved you for it, and it was nothing moreover to what you thought me!”