Relief, wonder, and even a gleam of outright happiness shot into the eyes of John Mark. "Caroline? You came for that?" Suddenly he laughed heartily, but there was a tremor of emotion in that laughter. The perfect torture, which had been wringing the soul of the man of the sneer, projected through the laughter.
"I ask your pardon, my dear," said John Mark to Ruth. "I should have guessed. You found him; he confessed why he was here; you took pity on him—and—" He brushed a hand across his forehead and was instantly himself, calm and cool.
"Very well, then. It seems I've made an ass of myself, but I'll try to make up for it. Now what about Caroline? There seems to be a whole host of you Westerners annoying her."
"Only one: I'm acting as his agent."
"And what do you expect?"
"I expect that you will send for her and tell her that she is free to go down with me—leave this house—and take a ride or a walk with me."
"As much as that? If you have to talk to her, why not do the talking here?"
"I dunno," replied Ronicky Doone. "I figure she'd think too much about you all the time."
"The basilisk, eh?" asked John Mark. "Well, you are going to persuade her to go to Bill Gregg?"
"You know the name, eh?"