She is in the next room, in ignorance,
however, that you are here."
And without another word I fled forward joyfully, and threw open the
folding-doors which separated me from my silent love.
Silent, yes! But she could, nevertheless, tell her story--surely the
strangest that any woman has ever lived to tell.
CHAPTER XVIII
CONTAINS ELMA'S STORY
Before me stood my love, a slim, tragic, rather wan figure in a heavy
dark traveling-coat and felt toque, her sweet lips parted and a look of
bewildered amazement upon her countenance as I burst in so suddenly upon
her.
In silence I grasped her tiny black-gloved hand, and then, also in
silence, raised it passionately to my eager lips. Her soft, dark
eyes--those eyes that spoke although she was mute--met mine, and in them
was a look that I had never seen there before--a look which as plainly
as any words told me that my wild fevered passion was reciprocated.
She gazed beyond into the room where the others had assembled, and then
looked at me inquiringly, whereupon I led her forward to where they
were, and Muriel fell upon her and kissed her with tears streaming from
her eyes.
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