But now her thoughts were interrupted. At the table where she sat she started, her head drawn abruptly in that attitude which deers have when surprised. In the door without had come the fumble of a key and, in the hall, she caught the almost noiseless tread of her lover. As he entered she got from her seat. Loftus had his hat on. He took it off, put it down on the table and taking a cigar from his pocket lit it at the chimney of a lamp that was there.
At the conclusion of the operation he looked at her. Her dress was canary. From the short loose sleeves lace fell that was repeated at the neck. There a yellow sapphire had been pinned. As he looked at her, she looked at him.
“I have something to say to you, Marie,” he began.
With an uplift of the chin she answered: “And I, Royal, have something to say to you.”
“The usual thing, I suppose. Well, shy a teacup at me if you like, but spare me a scene.”
As he spoke he seated himself. “Marie,” he at once resumed, “I shall have to take my mother up the Hudson shortly—”
The girl interrupted him. “Does Mrs. Annandale go too?”
The man’s cigar had gone out. He relighted it. “No,” he replied, “the last time I saw her she said something about going West.”
“Ah!” Marie exclaimed, and immediately with that curious intuition which women that really love possess she added, “to Dakota?”
“Perhaps,” replied Loftus with a puff. The surety of the shot amazed him, but of the amazement he gave no sign. “Perhaps, though I do not remember that she said just where she did intend to go.” He drew in a