CHAPTER II
THE SHOT
The door was opened for me by Ruth herself, who drew me within, and locked it behind me. Then with a finger on her lip, she led the way in silence to the drawing-room, seeming to breathe only when the door of that room was closed against further intrusion.
"What is it, Ruth?" I asked, more and more alarmed by all this secrecy coming on top of my own foolish fears.
Instead of answering she drew me down beside her on the divan and touched with her fingers my graying temples.
"Did I do that to you, Carlton?" she murmured, brokenly. "Oh, my dear, I wonder you had the courage to forgive me!"
"Ruth!" I cried sharply and at the misery in my voice she slipped to her knees and buried her face in her arms.
"Forgive me," she sobbed. "I should not have let myself go, but sometimes I feel I must go mad, alone night after night in this great silent house with only that horrible secretary of Phil's for company!"
"Hush," I returned, drawing her to me, but she pushed me from her and raised her head in a startled way.
"Listen!" she whispered, holding up her hand. "I thought I heard someone prowling around."