"But Marcia—" begged the girl.
"Step aside, dear, and let him look. Let them both look."
"Please—please, Marcia—!"
Sylvia was upon her knees now on the hearth, and the men, hesitating to remove her by force, halted awkwardly.
Her face, drawn with terror, was upturned to Marcia and was pitiful in its pleading.
Marcia regarded her first with startled incredulity—then with coldness.
So Sylvia loved Heath, too!
She was fighting for him—fighting with all her feeble strength.
A pang wrenched the older woman's heart.
What if Heath had played a double game—made love to Sylvia as he had made love to her? Convinced her of the depths of his affection with an ardor so compelling that against all odds she, too, believed in it?