He grew suddenly perfectly motionless, as if he had been changed to stone. She repeated her greeting.
His body jerked. He moved violently as if instinctively to turn and face this intruder; but a more violent movement checked him.
Madeline waited. How singular that this ruined cowboy had pride which kept him from showing his face! And was it not shame more than pride?
“Mr. Stewart, I have come to talk with you, if you will let me.”
“Go away,” he muttered.
“Mr. Stewart!” she began, with involuntary hauteur. But instantly she corrected herself, became deliberate and cool, for she saw that she might fail to be even heard by this man. “I have come to help you. Will you let me?”
“For God’s sake! You—you—” he choked over the words. “Go away!”
“Stewart, perhaps it was for God’s sake that I came,” said Madeline, gently. “Surely it was for yours—and your sister’s—” Madeline bit her tongue, for she had not meant to betray her knowledge of Letty.
He groaned, and, staggering up to the broken wall, he leaned there with his face hidden. Madeline reflected that perhaps the slip of speech had been well.
“Stewart, please let me say what I have to say?”