She swung round, her fists clenched, her face blazing.
'I hate you!' she cried. 'I do! I wish I'd never seen you! I wish—'
She leaned on the mantelpiece, burying her face in her arms, and burst into a passion of sobs. Rutherford leaped up, shocked and helpless. He sprang to her, and placed a hand gently on her shoulder.
'Peggy, old girl—'
She broke from him.
'Don't you touch me! Don't you do it! Gee, I wish I'd never seen you!'
She ran to the door, darted through, and banged it behind her.
Rutherford remained where he stood, motionless. Then, almost mechanically, he felt in his pocket for matches, and relit his pipe.
Half an hour passed. Then the door opened slowly. Peggy came in. She was pale, and her eyes were red. She smiled—a pathetic little smile.
'Peggy!'