The paroxysm did not last long. She mastered herself with a feeling of self-contempt and sat up, wiping her eyes and pressing her cold hands against her hot cheeks.
“Yes, it was wicked and cowardly—God forgive me!” she said. “I am not brave; I must be prevented and led, like a spoiled child! Jack, I’m not worthy of you!”
She walked up and down the room, calming herself, her courage revived. She had not been abandoned; there would be some way out. The irrevocable deed she had contemplated could be at least postponed. Wiser and stronger spirits than hers were aware of her extremity, and were working for her.
“I will see Torpeon,” she decided. “He must understand that, in spite of appearances, we are on equal ground.”
She passed into the adjoining room, and was about to press the bell to summon Jenny, when that rosy-cheeked young woman knocked and opened the door.
“If you please, miss, a young man outside would like to speak with ye. He’s a funny kind of young man, miss, if ye please,” she added, breaking into a smile.
“How so, Jenny?” demanded Miriam. “Who sent him here?”
“He’s from New York, miss, and I think he come of himself.”
“From New York? Come of himself: Consider what you are saying, Jenny!” Then the thought of her lover leaped up in her. She seized the girl by the shoulders. “You don’t mean—not Mr. Jack Paladin?”
Jenny was frightened by the passion in her look and voice.