Abduction -- Fiction; Americans -- Europe -- Fiction; Love stories
“Dickey, if you say another word that sounds like 'kill' I'll murder
you myself,” threatened Lord Bob.
Lady Jane began whetting a silver table knife on the edge of her
plate.
That evening Dorothy did not listen to Dickey Savage's rag-time
music from an upstairs room. She stood, with Lady Jane, beside the
piano bench and fervently applauded, joined in the chorus and
consoled herself with the thought that it was better to be a merry
prisoner than a doleful one. She played while Dickey and Jane
danced, and she laughed at the former's valiant efforts to teach the
English girl how to “cake walk.”
Philip Quentin, with his elbows on the piano, moodily watched her
hands, occasionally relaxing into a smile when the laughter became
general. Not once did he address her, and not once did she look up
at him. At last he wandered away, and when next she saw him he was
sitting in a far corner of the big room, his eyes half closed, his
head resting comfortably against the high back of the chair.
Lord and Lady Saxondale hovered about the friendly piano, and there
was but one who looked the outcast. Conditions had changed. She was
within a circle of pleasure, he outside. She gloated in the fact
that he had been driven into temporary exile, and that he could not
find a place in the circle as long as she was there. Occasionally
one or the other of his accomplices glanced anxiously toward the
quiet outsider, but no one asked him to come into the fold. In the
end, his indifference began to irritate her. When Lady Saxondale rang
for the candles near the midnight hour, she took her candlestick from
the maid, with no little relief, and unceremoniously made her way
toward the hall. She nervously uttered a general good-night to the
party and flushed angrily when Quentin's voice responded with the
others:
“Good-night, Dorothy.”
XXV. DOWN AMONG THE GHOSTS
“I cannot endure it,” she cried to herself a dozen times before
morning. “I shall go mad if I have to see his face and hear his
voice and feel that he is looking at me. There must be a way to
escape from this place, there must be a way. I will risk anything to
get away from him!”
At breakfast she did not see him; he had eaten earlier with Lord
Bob. The others noted the hunted look in her eye and saw that she
had passed a sleepless night. The most stupendous of Dickey's
efforts to enliven the dreary table failed, and there was utter
collapse to the rosy hopes they had begun to build. Her brain was
filled by one great thought--escape. While they were jesting she was
wondering how and where she could find the underground passages of
which they had spoken and to what point they would lead.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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