“Calm yourself, darling,” I urged softly, my arm around her waist. “There is no one here. You are alone—alone with me—Claude!”
“Claude!” she echoed, turning toward me and gazing blankly into my eyes with an expression which lacked recognition. “Oh—yes!” she added in a tone of surprise. “Why—yes—Claude! Is it you—really you?”
“Yes. I am Claude—and you are alone with me,” I said in great apprehension, for I feared lest she might be demented. No doubt she had been through some terrible experiences since last I had clasped her hand.
Again she sighed deeply. For the next few moments she gazed into my eyes in silence. Their stony stare thrilled and awed me. At last a very faint smile played about her lips, and she exclaimed: “Oh, yes! How awfully silly of me, Claude! How very foolish. Forgive me, won’t you?”
“Forgive you, darling! Why, of course,” I said, pressing her closely to me.
“But—but that terrible woman!” she cried, still terrified. “You won’t let her come near me again—will you?”
“No. She shan’t. I’m with you, and will protect you, darling. Trust in me.”
“Ah!” she sighed. “It was awful. How—how I’ve lived through it I don’t know.”
“Through what?” I asked, eager to induce her to tell her story.
“No,” she answered. “You—you would never believe me!—you would never understand! Oh! that woman! Look!” and in terror she raised her finger and pointed again straight before her. “Look! Don’t you see her! She’s fixed her eyes upon me—those awful leopard’s eyes!”