“Stop,” he said. A conviction that her sister’s words were true had from the first possessed her. “Why didn’t you come back? Lucy, I needed you to come back, just once. My wife—killed me. And yet, as she rose slowly to her feet and stood looking at him with outstretched hands, a strange mixture of expressions shining in her wonderful eyes, he realized in some measure the strength of her determination, felt the utter impotence of anything which he could say to her. Do you want to kill us both? Stop the thing. I have an engagement with a theatrical agent—I believe for the ‘Unusual’. Then his tiny bow mouth opened into an adoring smile. She looked about and discovered a door partially hidden by shadow. McClintock, without comment, accepted the hand. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable.
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