Minna was standing near the door. As Gerard approached, she advanced hurriedly to meet him—her veil off, her dark hair disordered over her forehead, her fashionable, befeathered and beribboned hat awry.
“I have come—I want to——”
She stopped dead. Stared at him open-mouthed. He was somewhat bewildered.
“Yes?” he said, in lame enquiry.
But she stood before him, trembling, uttering little sharp noises, like a terrier wistful to make his wants known, a horror in her eyes.
“Good God—what is the matter?”
She could not reply. The horror faded into mere helpless fright. She raised her hands and twitched her fingers, somewhat horridly, in the air, and continued the little staccato moans.
“Renie!” cried Gerard, sharply. “Renie, come here!”
Irene started at her husband’s summons and ran out into the hall. But as soon as the girl saw her, she uttered a long, shivering moan and shrank against the wall.
“What is it?”