Page:Arthur Stringer--The House of Intrigue.djvu/378

358 There was a note of authority in his voice which I couldn't help resenting, just as there was a ring of triumph in it which I couldn't quite understand.

"Lady?" scoffed the departing Copperhead Kate, over her shoulder. But that open scorn of hers was cut short by the sharp tug on the wrist with which Pinky McClone favored her. I could afford to ignore the taunt. But I wasn't sorry to see her go.

I knew that Wendy Washburn was standing in front of me, waiting to speak. But I had no intention of looking up at him, for I could feel my under-lip trembling, and I didn't want him to find it out.

That silence lasted so long, however, that it began to seem silly to me. So I decided to break it. "What do you want to talk to me about?" I demanded, though for the life of me I couldn't make it sound as stern as I wanted to make it sound.

"About the most important thing in all the world," was Wendy Washburn's perfectly solemn reply.

I looked up at him, at that. I couldn't help it, for I wanted to make sure of his meaning. And I noticed, as I looked at him, that he seemed suddenly different. He seemed to be taking his turn at appearing less superior, less sure of himself. But it wasn't