Of a sudden, the girl made shift to employ another sort of supplication.
“But there are reasons,” she said, faltering. A certain embarrassment swept her, and the ivory of her cheeks bloomed rosily. “I—I can't have you rob this house, this particular house of all the world.” Her eyes leaped from the still obdurate face of the forger to the group of three back of him. Her voice was shaken with a great dread as she called out to them.
“Boys, let's get away! Please, oh, please! Joe, for God's sake!” Her tone was a sob.
Her anguish of fear did not swerve Garson from his purpose.
“I'm going to see this through,” he said, doggedly.
“But, Joe——”
“It's settled, I tell you.”
In the man's emphasis the girl realized at last the inefficacy of her efforts to combat his will. She seemed to droop visibly before their eyes. Her head sank on her breast. Her voice was husky as she tried to speak.
“Then——” She broke off with a gesture of despair, and turned away toward the door by which she had entered.
But, with a movement of great swiftness, Garson got in front of her, and barred her going. For a few seconds the two stared at each other searchingly as if learning new and strange things, each of the other. In the girl's expression was an outraged wonder and a great terror. In the man's was a half-shamed pride, as if he exulted in the strength with which he had been able to maintain his will against her supreme effort to overthrow it.