Page:The woman, the man, and the monster (IA womanmanmonster00dawe).pdf/357

 seemed to catch the light echo of a well-known step. Though there was no anger in the eyes which looked up into his, there was that in them which he failed entirely to see.

“Perseus, come, come,” she moaned. But she said aloud, “Why should it be?”

“What has brought this change?” he asked.

“Love,” she said, and nearly choked in the saying of it.

“Are you sure it is not fear?”

“Of what?”

He laughed. “Come here; let me look at you.” Once more he seated himself on the sofa and drew her to him. “It’s a lovely throat, Irene. Pity that it should be a nest of lies.” He put his hand into her bosom and laughed again. “And so yow’re not afraid?”

“Why should I be?”

But she could not look into his eyes. It seemed as though the very life of her was slowly ebbing out.

“Why, as to that I don’t know.” He laughed again, and this time the sound of it was shrill with madness. “Yet it would be strange if we came together again, we who have been so long apart.”

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