"I do not love you. You are mad to think it"
"I don't believe it!" he cried, advancing.
But she was gone. The hall door slammed before he could reach it.
He halted, turned back, his whole long body shaking, his face wrung with fear and uncertainty.
"Good God!" he cried—"which of us is right—she or I?"
XXI
BLACK OUT
Toward eight in the evening, after a day-long search through all his accustomed haunts, Ember ran Whitaker to earth in the dining-room of the Primordial. The young man, alone at table, was in the act of topping off an excellent dinner with a still more excellent cordial and a super-excellent cigar. His person seemed to diffuse a generous atmosphere of contentment and satisfaction, no less mental than physical and singularly at variance with his appearance, which, moreover, was singularly out of keeping not only with his surroundings but also with his normal aspect.