“I’ve seen you with him,” was the non-committal answer.
“It—it’s about Bill I want to see you,” she brought out the words with the same halting pause which had marked her hesitation in the doorway.
Naomi motioned her to a chair. The girl’s pale face went a tinge whiter. Her lips quivered. She looked down.
“I’ve been wanting to come to see you and hadn’t the courage. Yesterday I followed you here in a cab from the theater. But you were with Mr. Kent. I didn’t come up.” She fidgeted with the slightly frayed silk of her chair.
“Miss Stokes, I—I’ve known Bill Dixon all my life. I’ve loved him all my life—and I thought he loved me. He used to tell me so. We—we’ve always loved the same things and done the same things—together—in the same way. We’ve ridden hours on horseback up into [154] ]the mountains and gone shooting in the woods—and tramped to places other people didn’t know about. When I went away to school and he to college, we used to write each other about our woods and the longing to get back to them—together. We never planned anything—separately. We sort of always—belonged to each other.”
She halted once more. It was because she couldn’t go on. The eyes lifted to meet Naomi’s were filmed. It was only too clear that she was putting herself through the ordeal of tearing open new wounds for some purpose. Naomi looked away. To play on her own sympathy, of course! She wouldn’t listen. It would do no good anyway.
“I’m trying to tell you, Miss Stokes, how I love Bill Dixon—how much I want his happiness. And now he loves you. Oh, I don’t blame him! You’re very beautiful—more beautiful than I could ever dream of being. You’re like some gorgeous flower in a conservatory. I’ve never seen any one like you. At first I thought I could—perhaps—win him back—but I couldn’t. Not from you. I—I wouldn’t know how. I’ve thought about it a lot. And I—at first I thought I couldn’t live through it. But I’ve got to now. Bill can’t help loving you. I don’t blame him for that.” She got up suddenly and brushed a hand across her eyes. In the poise of her body, head thrown back, lip caught between her teeth, was life’s first big endurance test and her brave attempt to meet it.
“But you’ve got to love him, Miss Stokes! You’ve got to make him happy. I’d give my life for him. [155] ]That’s the way you’ve got to love him, too. If you don’t—if you fail him—ever—I’ll kill you!”
Waves of astonishment swept over Naomi. Those eyes that burned behind the film of tears! Surely this was not their message! To demand happiness for the man of whom she was being robbed—surely that was not what the girl had come for.
“My dear child—” Naomi began, instinctively speaking as if to one years younger.