Try as he might, he couldn't fling off the impression of tragedy the meeting of Socola with Jennie had produced. He was in a nervous fit to see and tell her of his love. Why the devil hadn't he done so before anyhow? They might have been engaged and ready to be married by this time. They had met when she was sixteen.
Why on earth couldn't he throw off the fool idea that he was going to lose her? His big fist suddenly closed with resolution.
"I'll not lose her! I'll wring that viper's neck—I'll wade through blood and death and the fires of h—"
Just as he was plunging waist deep through the flames of the Pit, she appeared in the door, the picture of wistful, tender beauty.
He rose awkwardly and extended his hand.
"Good morning, Dick!"
"Good morning, Jennie—"
Her hand was hot, her eyes heavy with tears.
"What's the matter?" he asked.