“From the Christian fable? Yes.”
“Well, the man whom I kiss is marked for swift destruction.”
“I would suffer the penalty and rejoice in it.”
“You are not the man.”
She stopped abruptly at the crossing, said good-night to him, and turned away before he could recover from the shock of his surprise. It was not the first time she had closed a conversation with him suddenly and left him mystified, and wondering at the meaning of her words. He stood on the corner and watched her out of sight, and then, with mind ill at ease, he turned in at the Silver Star.
Mary Bradley hurried on down Main Street, but she did not take a car. She was in a mood for walking, cold as the night was. At the first corner she turned, went a block to the west, and thence followed a residence street running parallel with Main. It was not yet six o’clock but the street was practically deserted. It was a good neighborhood, however, and she was not timid. Both Hazzard and Emberly, vestrymen of Christ Church, lived on this street. She knew the Emberly house in the next block. As she approached it a man descended the steps of it and started away in the direction in which she was going. She thought, as she saw him in the shadow, that it was Lamar. He was of nearly the same height, build and carriage, and it was easy for her to be mistaken. But when, instinctively, he turned his face back toward her, feeling that some one was following him whom he knew, she saw at once that it was the rector of Christ Church. He waited until she reached him, and they walked on together. He too was going in the direction of Factory Hill. A sick call which he had been prevented all the afternoon from reaching, must be made before dinner time. He was in a cheerful mood. Emberly had given him encouraging news. He told it to Mrs. Bradley as they went along. But, for some reason which he could not understand, she was more than usually reticent, and when she spoke it was in monosyllables. It was not a sullen reticence, but rather a physical inability, as though she were laboring for breath. Five blocks farther down she said:
“I turn here and cross the foot-bridge. It’s much nearer for me.”
“I will go with you,” he replied.
“But it will take you out of your way.”
“It doesn’t matter. Besides, it’s an unfrequented route, and you shouldn’t go alone at this hour.”