And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. White looked mysteriously about the room as though to be sure that no one was listening. ’ ‘What if she goes back to Charvill?’ demanded Roding. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. Thwart me, and I become your mortal enemy. But women—women as a rule don’t throw themselves into things like that. In spite of the tumultuous joy which agitated him, the bridegroom could not prevent the intrusion of some saddening thoughts, as he reflected upon the melancholy scene which he had so recently witnessed in the same place. They were in different key, they had a different timbre. All that confidence, born of irony, disappeared; and fear laid hold of him.
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