He turned quietly at length and seated himself near the window.
"How long does your uncle expect to be away?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"I never know; he may come back to-morrow, or perhaps not for days."
Baring's black brows drew together.
"Where is he?" he asked. She shook her head again.
He said nothing; but his silence was so condemnatory that she felt
herself called upon to defend the absent one.
"You see, he came here in the first place because I begged so very hard.
And he has to travel because of his book. I always knew that, so I
really can't complain. Besides, I'm not generally lonely, and hardly
ever nervous. And I have Ronnie."
"Ronnie!" said Baring; and for the first time he looked contemptuous.
Hope sighed.
"It's quite my own fault," she said humbly. "If I hadn't--"
"Pardon me! It is not your fault," he interrupted grimly. "It is
iniquitous that a girl like you should be left in such a place as this
entirely without protection. Have you a revolver?"
Hope looked startled.
"Oh, no!" she said. "If I had, I should never dare to use it, even if I
knew how."
Baring looked at her, still frowning.
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