“I’ll obey like a child.” Again her hands went tremulously out to him; then she covered her face with them and burst into the tears of nervous exhaustion.
“This is no place for me,” said the artist, and was about to escape by the door, when Mrs. Clyde blocked his departure.
“Ah, you are in here,” she said gayly. “I’d been wondering—Why, what’s the matter? What is it?”
“There has been an unfortunate blunder,” said Dr. Strong quickly. “I said some foolish things which Miss Ennis overheard—”
“No,” interrupted the painter. “The fault was mine—” And in the same breath Louise Ennis cried:—
“I didn’t overhear! I listened. I eavesdropped.”
“Are you quite mad, all of you?” demanded the hostess. “Won’t somebody tell me what has happened?”
“It’s true,” said the girl wildly; “every word they said. I am a mess.”
Mrs. Clyde’s arms went around the girl. Sex-loyalty raised its war signal flaring in her cheeks.
“Who said that?” she demanded, in a tone of which Dr. Strong observed afterward, “I never before heard a woman roar under her breath.”