“Not quite all. He told me very little that I did not know before; but there were one or two facts that may be useful. Good night, Nita, good night, and good-bye.”
“Not for long,” she answered. “You will spend Christmas at home, of course.”
“Yes, I shall go home for the Christmas week, I suppose.”
“You will have something to tell me by that time, perhaps. You will be on the track.”
“Don’t be too sanguine, Nita. I will do my uttermost.”
“I am sure you will. Ah, you don’t know how I trust you, how I lean upon you. God bless you, Theodore. You are my strong rock. I, who never had a brother, turn to you as a sister might. If you can do this thing for me—if you can avenge his cruel death——”
“If—what then, Juanita?” he asked, paling suddenly, and his eyes flaming.
“I shall honour—esteem you—as I have never done yet; and you know I have always looked up to you, Theodore. God bless and prosper you. Good night.”
Her speech, kind as it was, fell upon his enthusiasm like ice. He was holding both her hands, almost crushing them unawares in his vehemence. Then his grip loosened all at once, he bent his head, gently kissed those slender hands, muttered a husky good night, and hurried from the room.