"Well; and that is all?" Her tones were so chilling that they came over the spirit of her husband like the low waves of an icy wind.
"No, that is not all." What evil spirit was blinding his perceptions? What evil influence pressing him on to the brink of ruin?
"Say on." How strangely cold and calm she remained! "Say on," she repeated. Was there none to warn him of danger?
"If you go a third time to your father—" He paused.
"Well?" There was not a quiver in her low, clear, icy tone.
"You must do it with your eyes open, and in full view of the consequences."
"What are the consequences?"
Beware, rash man! Put a seal on your lips! Do not let the thought so sternly held find even a shadow of utterance!
"Speak, Hartley Emerson. What are the consequences?"
"You cannot return!" It was said without a quiver of feeling.