And so the pendulum swung again, his eyes being still glued upon the girl, once more he found himself the prey to suspicions.
In vain he endeavored to throttle them, as his better nature arose in arms—like Banquo's ghost they would not down—every movement the girl made that reminded him of Georgia was like a wicked stab in the region of his heart, and when he saw the daring Julio pick up her kerchief which had fallen from her hand, and press it to his lips very cavalierly ere returning it, Roderic had a great desire to rush upon the bolero dancer and knock him down—indeed, just at that minute he thought he had good cause for hammering him in lusty Anglo Saxon style.
But Roderic was not jealous—oh! no, he had cast that monster out of his heart for good, and meant to have no more of him—only he had a very queer sensation seize upon him, and felt as though it was only just and right, both to Georgia and himself, that he should settle this matter then and there.
This could only be done in one way, by looking upon the girl's face.
He was firmly resolved to do this, come what might—Julio would doubtless resent the impertinence, for Julio was a fighter, having once been a toreador in the bull ring—what of that, if only he could discover the truth one way or the other?
A fellow in his frame of mind thinks little of danger, the careless snap of his fingers perhaps.
What fools Cupid does make of men—even those who would appear to be the best balanced go quite off the handle when the little god finds lodgment in their bosoms.
At any rate Owen had now thrown away all other fancies and was studiously following this couple as might an Indian his intended prey.