She knew what he meant, and said so.
"Of course it was nothing against me—against love," she answered. "It was just the hook, dear, that's going to hold this fish for ever."
When they had expressed the inexpressible and explained the obvious, he returned to that fish-hook phrase of hers.
"What made you put it like that, young woman?" he asked.
"Your eyes, Dick. For a moment you were afraid, wondering whether I should toe the line exactly. Your eyes got hard. They stabbed right into me, and they had a sort of backward wings, like fish-hooks—father's got a horrid arrow like that—won't come out again without tearing. Yours won't ever, Dick."
CHAPTER XXIV.
"KUK-KUK-KUK-KATIE."
Soft, even light filled the wide entrance hall of No. — Park Lane.
The single, expressionless footman appeared almost hopeful, knowing his release was near; for the time was only twenty minutes short of midnight.