'It can't be long a secret, at least from you—you can't help knowing it,' he drawled gently. 'Do you recollect, Radie, what I said that morning when I first called here, and saw you?'
'Perhaps I do, but I don't know what you mean,' answered she.
'I said, Mark Wylder——'
'Don't name him,' she said, rising and approaching him swiftly.
'I said he should go abroad, and so he shall,' said Lake, in a very low tone, with a grim oath.
'Why do you talk that way? You terrify me,' said Rachel, with one hand raised toward his face with a gesture of horror and entreaty, and the other closed upon his wrist.
'I say he shall, Radie.'
'Has he lost his wits? I can't comprehend you—you frighten me, Stanley. You're talking wildly on purpose, I believe, to terrify me. You know the state I'm in—sleepless—half wild—all alone here. You're talking like a maniac. It's cruel—it's cowardly.'
'I mean to do it—you'll see.'
Suddenly she hurried by him, and in a moment was in the little kitchen, with its fire and candle burning cheerily. Stanley Lake was at her shoulder as she entered, and both were white with agitation.