Page:Wadsworth Camp--the gray mask.djvu/22

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12
THE GRAY MASK

Six months ago when you first came I never dreamed a man could make even that much difference to me again."

Without warning the colour rushed back to her face. She clenched her hands. The determination in her tone was overwhelming.

"Is that inconstancy to him? Don't think that. I'm not inconstant. I wouldn't be that."

Garth waved his hand helplessly.

"What difference—Never mind, Nora. It's finished."

"But you—It's so unfair. And I want you for my friend."

She sat down, hiding her face.

"Later—I don't know. How can I tell? How can anybody?"

Garth saw her shoulders commence to shake. This emotion fired a tiny hope, yet it angered him that she should suffer, too.

"Stop that," he said roughly. "It isn't worth it to you. I'm sorry I spoke. I ought to have had better sense, but I'm going out of town to-day on a job—"

He paused. He turned back to the window.

"That's why I spoke, because—because I may be away a very long time."

She controlled herself.

"How long, Jim?"

"God knows."

"Where? West?"

He shook his head.