"Mr. Chilcote!" he announced, in a subdued, discreet voice.
Loder's first impression was of a room that seemed unusually
luxurious, soft, and shadowed. Then all impression of
inanimate things left him suddenly.
For the fraction of a second he stood in the door-way, while
the room seemed emptied of everything, except a figure that
rose slowly from a couch before the fire at sound of
Chilcote's name; then, with a calmness that to himself seemed
incredible, he moved forward into the room.
He might, of course, have beaten a retreat and obviated many
things; but life is full of might-have-beens, and retreat
never presents itself agreeably to a strong man. His impulse
was to face the difficulty, and he acted on the impulse.
Lillian had risen slowly; and as he neared her she held out
her hand.
"Jack!" she exclaimed, softly. "How sweet of you to
remember!"
The voice and words came to him with great distinctness,
and as they came one uncertainty passed forever from his mind
--the question as to what relation she and Chilcote held to
each other.
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