The silence
of the world about her became a threat. The darkening of the cloudless
sky beyond the open window. She sat on, refusing to invoke the aid of
lamp-light to banish the gathering legions of her dread. She knew it
was impossible to banish them.
Oh, she had no physical fear of the world about her. What was there to
fear? Did she not know it all? Had she not lived it all before? The
two wide open windows invited her. She moved to one of them, and drew
a chair so that she could rest upon the sill and gaze out into the
space so perfectly jeweled. And the cool night air fanned her cheeks,
and seemed to relieve the fever that was raging behind her hot eyes.
The morrow. There was no other concern with her now but--the morrow.
To-morrow Jeff would return. To-morrow she would know the worst, she
would know if the purpose of Fate were for or against her. Oh, that
to-morrow! And in the meantime there were interminable hours of
darkness to endure, when sleep was impossible. And after that the
daylight, when she must fear every eye that was turned in her
direction, when every moment brought nearer the possibility of the end
for her of all things in the world which mattered.
Pages:
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378