Kate put her hand on Gordon’s arm and drew closer as they passed down its gloomy corridor to the warden’s office.
She tried to smile, but by the twitching at the corners of her full lips he could see she was nearer to crying. Again, as her body touched his, he felt the warmth and glow of her beauty, her blue eyes, cordial and grave, her waving auburn hair with its glowing fires, her step luxurious and rhythmic, and. now as her hand trembled, instead of the gleam of cruelty and conscious power, the timid appeal to the strength of the man.
She looked at him and lowered her eyes, and then flashed them up straight into his face with a smile.
“I’m not afraid!” she said impulsively.
“Of course not.”
His steel-gray eyes looked into hers, and they both laughed.
Gordon asked the warden’s permission to see the woman whose letter had brought him and also the young man who had returned from Sing Sing for a new trial.
“What is the charge against the woman?” he asked.
“Shoplifting, sir. She’s been here before and begged off. But they are going to send her up this time. I’ll allow her to see you in the reception room.”
She came in, with a poor attempt at dignity, and then collapsed into whining but hopeful lying. She was dressed in an old sunburnt frock. Her hair was tousled, her shoes untied, and a corset-string was hanging outside her skirt. Her front teeth were out, and the red blotches on her face told the story of drink and drugs.