There was an instant's hesitation; then
she spoke again hurriedly, a note of anxiety in her voice.
"You are beginning all over again, aren't you, Jimmie? And I have told
you that to-night I can explain nothing. And, besides, it is what has
brought me here that counts now, and every moment is of--"
"Yes. I know," he interposed; "but, then, at least you will tell me one
thing: Why did you come to-night, instead of sending me a letter as you
always have before?"
"Because it is different to-night than it ever was before," she replied
earnestly. "Because there is something in what has happened that I
cannot explain myself; because there is danger, and where I could not
see clearly I feared a trap, and so I dared not send what, in a letter,
could at best be only vague and incomplete details. Do you see?"
"Yes," said Jimmie Dale--but he was only listening in an abstracted way.
If he could only see that face, so close to his! He had yearned for that
with all his soul for years now! And she was here, standing beside him,
and his hand was upon her arm; and here, in his own den, in his own
house, he was listening to another call to arms for the Gray Seal from
her own lips! Honour! Was he but a poor, quixotic fool! He had only
to step to the desk and switch on the light! Why should--he steadied
himself with a jerk, and drew away his hand.
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