TOWARDS MORNING
The shock of astonishment unmanned Evan. His pistol arm dropped weakly at his side, his mouth hung open, he stared like an idiot. To have crept into the house heart in mouth and pistol in hand, to have nerved himself to meet and overcome a desperate criminal—and then to find this! The violence of the reaction threw all his machinery out of gear; he stalled. He felt inclined to laugh weakly.
Corinna could not see him clearly, though presumably she was aware of a figure standing in the hall. She was very much affronted by the violence of the intrusion, and not in the least afraid. She sat up with her glorious hair a little tousled, and her eyes flashing like a diminutive empress's.
"Mr. Straiker, is it you? What does this mean?" she demanded.
Evan could not readily find his tongue. Amazement broke over him in succeeding waves like a surf. Corinna! Corinna here! Corinna a member of the blackmailing gang! Corinna, the chief! Oh, impossible! He was in a nightmare!
"Mr. Straiker!" repeated Corinna more sharply. "Come in at once!" She was on her feet now.
Evan's faculties began to work again. In anticipation he tasted the sweets of perfect revenge. This little creature had put an intolerable humiliation upon him. Very well, here she was absolutely in his power! Dropping the gun in his pocket, he stepped into the room smiling.
At sight of him Corinna did not cry out, but the shock she received was dreadfully evident in her eyes. She went back a step, one hand went to her breast, her lips formed the syllable "You!"—but no sound came from them. Every vestige of color faded from her face.
Evan's gaze burned her up; she was so beautiful, and she had injured him so! "So you're a member of the gang!" he said mockingly.
Corinna quickly recovered her forces. She shrugged disdainfully.