Reggie strode up to her, but now she was no longer frightened. She laughed at him. He thrust his face close to hers.
“Look here, get out of this, or I’ll give you such a thrashing as you’ll never forget. Thank God, I’m done with you now. Get out—get out!”
Without a word, swiftly, she passed him, and went to the door. Not caring who might be about, she crossed the long passage that led from Reggie’s room to hers, her brain beating as though devils within it hammered madly; she could not realize what had occurred, but felt that the world was strangely coming to its end; it seemed to her the finish of life and of everything. Her wan cheeks were flushed still with anger and hatred. She had just reached her door, when Paul walked towards her up the great staircase; for one moment she was panic-stricken, but the danger extraordinarily cleared her mind.
“Grace, I’ve been looking for you,” he said; “I wondered where you were.”
“I’ve been talking to Mrs. Bassett,” she answered quickly. “Where on earth did you suppose I was?”
“I couldn’t think. I’ve just been downstairs to see if you were there.”
“I wish you wouldn’t follow me about and spy on my movements,” she cried irritably.
“I’m very sorry, my darling; I didn’t mean to do that.” He stood at the door of her room.
“For Heaven’s sake, come in or go out,” she said; “but don’t stand there with the door wide open.”
“I’ll just come for two minutes,” he answered mildly.