"Yes, yes," murmured Sally, blushing furiously. "Hand them to me, and then go into the next room. I shall not want you for a few moments. When I do, I will ring."
She could hardly restrain her impatience until the door had closed to learn what Victor Lamont had been so rash, after last night's escapade, as to write to her about.
She had little difficulty in finding the note.
There were but a few lines, and they read as follows:
"My dear Mrs. Gardiner—Sally—I must see you without delay. I am pacing up and down the beach, waiting for you to come to me. You would not dare fail me if you knew all that depends upon my seeing you.
"Yours, in haste and in waiting,
"Victor."
"Great Heaven!" muttered Sally, "how can I go to him after the stormy interview I have just had with my husband? It is utterly impossible, as we go from here within the hour. I ought to say good-bye to the poor fellow. But what if Jay should be out on the beach, or on the piazza, or in the office, and see me slip out of the hotel? He would be sure to follow me, and then there would be a scene, perhaps a fight."
Again and again she read the note, which she was twisting about her white fingers.
We all know what happens to the woman who hesitates—she is lost.