His bronzed face was smiling, and the savage in him was hidden deep down out of sight. His handsome face was good to look upon, and as the woman’s eyes surveyed his carefully clad slim figure she felt a thrill of triumph at the thought that he was hers at the raising of her finger.
But she faced him without any responsive smile. She had summoned him with a very definite purpose in her mind, and no display of anything that could be interpreted into weakness must be made.
“I want to talk to you,” she said, pointing at the rocking-chair she had just vacated.
James glanced at the chair. Then his eyes turned back to her with a question in them. Finally he shrugged his shoulders and flung himself into the seat, and stretched out his long legs luxuriously.
Apparently Jessie had not noticed the shrug. It would have been better had she done so. She might then have understood more fully the man she was dealing with. However, she turned to the window and spoke with her back to him.
“It’s about––things,” she said a little lamely.
The man’s smile was something ironical, as his eyes greedily devoured the beauty of her figure.
“I’m glad,” he said in a non-committing way. Then, as no reply was immediately forthcoming, he added, “Get going.”
But Jessie made no answer. She was thinking hard, and somehow her thoughts had an uneasy confusion in them. She was trying hard to find the best way to begin that which she had to say, but every opening seemed inadequate. She must not appeal, she must not dictate. She must adopt some middle course. These things she felt instinctively.
The man shifted his position and glanced round the room.