"Won't you come?" she falteringly pleaded, pointing towards the house
with its twinkling lights. "You are cold; you are shuddering; they will
do the searching who don't mind night or wet. Follow Anitra, Anitra who
is so sorry."
"No!" he shouted. His tone, his look, were almost those of a madman. He
even put out his hands towards her in repulsion. He seemed to cast her
away. This gesture, if not his words, reached her understanding. The
lawyer saw her sway, fling back her young head with its disheveled locks
to the night, and fall moaning pitifully to the ground. Here she lay
still, with the wet grass all about her and the last lingering drops of
rain beating on her huddled form.
Mr. Harper started to raise her, for Ransom stood petrified. But no
sooner had the lawyer made his presence known by this impetuous movement,
than Ransom woke from his trance and, darting down, lifted the girl in
his arms and began moving with her towards the house. As he passed the
lawyer he muttered between set teeth:
"She's caused me all my misery. But she looks too much like Georgian for
me to see another man touch her. God will care for my poor darling's
body."
CHAPTER XIV
A DETECTIVE'S WORK
Morning.
The living household was about its tasks for all the horror of the night
before, and the still unrelieved suspense as to the fate of one of its
members.
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