His sense of overpowering
curiosity held him very still; but he made no effort to prompt
his companion.
Again Chilcote shifted his position agitatedly. "It, had to
be done," he said, disjointedly. "I had to do it--then and
there. The things were on the bureau--the pens and ink and
telegraph forms. They tempted me."
Loder laid down his glass suddenly. An exclamation rose to
his lips, but he checked it.
At the slight sound of the tumbler touching the table Chilcote
turned; but there was no expression on the other's face to
affright him.
"They tempted me," he repeated, hastily. "They seemed like
magnets--they seemed to draw me towards them. I sat at the
bureau staring at them for a long time; then a terrible
compulsion seized me--something you could never understand
--and I caught up the nearest pen and wrote just what was in
my mind. It wasn't a telegram, properly speaking--it was more
a letter. I wanted you back and I had to make myself plain.
The writing of the message seemed to steady me; the mere
forming of the words quieted my mind.
Pages:
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381