"Murder!" gasped Spike. "Oh, my God! I—I ain't—"
The lad sprang to his feet and was running on the instant, but turning to glance back, tripped over some obstacle and fell. Swaying he rose and stumbled on, but slower now by reason of the pain in his wounded arm. Thus, when at last he came out upon the road, the Old Un was still close behind him.
CHAPTER XLVI
IN WHICH GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE OBTAINS HIS OBJECT
Mrs. Trapes glanced sadly around her cosy housekeeper's room and sighed regretfully; she was alone, and upon the table ready to hand lay her neat bonnet, her umbrella, and a pair of white cotton gloves, beholding which articles her lips set more resolutely, her bony arms folded themselves more tightly, and she nodded in grim determination.
"The labourer is worthy of his hire!" she sighed, apparently addressing the bonnet, "but, if so be the labourer ain't worthy, why then, the sooner he quits—"
A sound of quick, light feet upon the stair and a voice that laughed gaily, a laugh so full of happiness that even Mrs. Trapes's iron features relaxed, and her grim mouth curved in her rare smile. At that moment the door opened and Hermione appeared, a radiant Hermione who clasped Mrs. Trapes in her arms and tangled her up in her long motor veil and laughed again.
"Oh, Ann, such a day!" she exclaimed, laying aside her long dust-coat. "New York is a paradise—when you're rich! No more bargain days and clawing matches over the remnant counter, Ann! Oh, it's wonderful to be able to buy anything I want—anything! Think of it, Ann, isn't it just a dream of joy? And I've shopped and shopped, and he was so dear and patient! I bought Arthur a complete outfit—"
"Arthur!" said Mrs. Trapes, and groaned.