Page:The Whisper on the Stair by Lyon Mearson (1924).djvu/284

 himself. Last night Teck had spoken to him with the lips of Jessica. That was last night. This morning Jessica was speaking to him with the heart of Jessica. That was this morning—end forever.

He turned to her with shining eyes.

“Glad!” he said. “If you knew how happy I am to see you, Jessica, you would⸺”

“Of course,” she said. “I know.” Quietly, with infinite understanding.

“How do you happen to be here?” he asked, simply for the sake of talking. It did not make much difference to him what he said, so long as he stood there talking with her—saying something that would cause her to answer; that would cause her voice to ring upon his ears. In front of them the Chamberlin smoked and burned fitfully, yet they saw it not. A great crowd of people hemmed them in on all sides, but it was as though they were alone.

“It’s quite a story,” she said. He turned to her inquiringly.

She told him the story readily, apologizing for her attitude last night when he had called after returning from the old house. She told him of how Teck had made her promise to marry him to-day—and of how she had resolved to cast off his baneful influence over her by flight back to New York, there to hide herself away from him, somewhere. Of how she had discovered that Teck had anticipated such a move, and guarded against it.

After she and Elizabeth had returned to the house they had held a council of war to decide on ways and means. She had been almost ready to give up, but she was thankful that Elizabeth was made of sterner stuff. They had finally decided to wait an hour or