Her brain was beginning to whirl, but with all her strength she
controlled it. Now or never would she know the truth.
Beelzebub was scared by the question.
"Missis won't tell Boss?" he begged.
"No, no," she said impatiently. "When will you learn that I never repeat
things? Now, Beelzebub, I want you to do something for me. Can you
remember? You are to ask Mr. Curtis to tell you the white man's name.
Say that Boss--do you understand?--say that Boss wants to know! And then
come back as fast as you possibly can, before Boss gets home to-night,
and tell me!"
She repeated these instructions many times over till it seemed
impossible that he could make any mistake. And then she watched him go,
and set herself with a heart like lead to face the interminable day.
She thought the hours would never pass, so restless was she, so
continuous the torment of doubt that vexed her soul. There were times
when she felt that if the thing she feared were true, it would kill her.
If her husband--the man whom, in spite of almost every instinct, she had
learnt to love--had deceived her, if he had played a double game to win
her, if, in short, the man he had fought at Bowker Creek were Robin
Wentworth, then she felt as if life for her were over.
Pages:
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253