"
She looked at him closely and firmly. "You know why I cannot welcome
you."
"Yet I have paid the account demanded by the law. And you had no regard
for him. You divorced him."
Sheila had drawn near, and Dyck made a gesture in her direction. "She
does not know," he said, "and she should not hear what we say now?"
Mrs. Llyn nodded, and in a low tone told Sheila that she wished to be
alone with Dyck for a little while. In Dyck's eyes, as he watched Sheila
go, was a thing deeper than he had ever known or shown before. In her
white gown, and with her light step, Sheila seemed to float away--a
picture graceful, stately, buoyant, "keen and small." As she was about
to pass beyond a clump of pimento bushes, she turned her head towards the
two, and there was that in her eyes which few ever see and seeing are
afterwards the same. It was a look of inquiry, or revelation, of emotion
which went to Dyck's heart.
"No, she does not know the truth," Mrs. Llyn said. "But it has been hard
hiding it from her. One never knew whether some chance remark, some
allusion in the papers, would tell her you had killed her father.
Pages:
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61