He was drunk with power.
CHAPTER XXVII
Lily had an unexpected visitor that afternoon, in the person of Pink Denslow. She had assumed some of Elinor's cares for the day, for Elinor herself had not been visible since breakfast. It soothed the girl to attend to small duties, and she was washing and wiping Elinor's small stock of fine china when the bell rang.
“Mr. Denslow is calling,” said Jennie. “I didn't know if you'd see him, so I said I didn't know if you were in.”
Lily's surprise at Pink's visit was increased when she saw him. He was covered with plaster dust, even to the brim of his hat, and his hands were scratched and rough.
“Pink!” she said. “Why, what is the matter?”
For the first time he was conscious of his appearance, and for the first time in his life perhaps, entirely indifferent to it.
“I've been digging in the ruins,” he said. “Is that man Doyle in the house?”
Her color faded. Suddenly she noticed a certain wildness about Pink's eyes, and the hard strained look of his mouth.