He walked with quick, firm step, threw the coats and robes on the couch and placed the suit-case at its head. He hadn't turned toward her and his face was still in profile while he removed the gloves from his pockets, threw them on the robes, and drew the scarlet woolen neckpiece from his throat.
She was studying him now with new terror-stricken eyes. Never had she seen his jaw look so big and brutal. Never had the droop of his eyelids suggested such menace. Never had the contrast of his slender hands and feet suggested such hideous possibilities.
“Merciful God! No! No!” she kept repeating in her soul while her dilated eyes stared at him in sheer horror of the suggestion which the jewels had roused.
She drew a deep breath and strangled the idea by her will.
“I'll at least be as fair as a jury,” she thought grimly. “I'll not condemn him without a hearing.”
Jim suddenly became aware of the menace of her silence. She had not moved a muscle, spoken or made the slightest sound since he had entered. He had merely taken in the room at a glance and had seen her standing in precisely the same place beside the table.
He saw now that she was leaning heavily against it.
He raised his head and faced her with a sudden, bold stare, and his voice rang in tones of sharp command.
“Well?”
She tried to speak and failed. She had not yet sufficiently mastered her emotions.