As he entered the library, he saw Hylda Prout standing in the middle of the room with a face of ecstasy which astonished him. She, lately arrived back from her visit to the Italian, had heard him come, and had leapt up to confront him, her heart galloping in her throat.
"Anything wrong?" he asked with a quick glance at her.
"Miss Marsh has been here."
"Ah?... Miss Marsh?"
She made a mad step toward him. The words that she uttered rasped harshly. She did not recognize her own voice.
"I told her straight out that it is not the slightest good her running after you."
"You told her what?"
Amazement struggled with indignation in his face. All the world seemed to have gone mad when the pale, studiously sedate secretary used such words of frenzy.
"I meant to stop—her pursuit of you.... Mr. Osborne—hear me—I—I...." Excessive emotion overpowered her. In attempting to say more she panted with distress.
"What is it all about, Miss Prout? Calm yourself, please—be quiet"—he said it with some effort to express both his resentment and his authority.